


On Bedhead, Bullets, and Bargains

by AlexWSpark



Series: The Katsuki/Nikiforov Collector's Edition [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Adorable GA and Phichit family dynamics, Adorable Katsuki Yuuri, Adorable Victor Nikiforov, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anxiety Attacks, Developing Relationship, Domestic Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Gaming, M/M, Mild Angst, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Video & Computer Games
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-03
Updated: 2017-07-31
Packaged: 2018-11-16 06:27:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 18,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11248203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlexWSpark/pseuds/AlexWSpark
Summary: Yuuri (GamerLevelEros) and Victor (GAria_VNikiforov): Gamers, streamers, friends, lovers. Families will unite, love will be spread and, of course, games will be played. But, as their relationship progresses, Yuuri will discover that their time apart carries much more weight that he could've ever imagined.Obscure gaming references included <3P.S. All the links in this fic are real and lead to cool things :)Currently on hiatus. Be back soon!





	1. Procedural Generation

**Author's Note:**

> The first DLC for the OO&OL universe! OO&OL means so much to me and sharing it with everyone has been one of the best experiences this year. To everyone who supported the first fic, thank you! This fic is currently set to 3 chapters and if it happens to increase, well, no one has ever complained before lol. I hope you enjoy!
> 
> P.S. I've been getting a few questions on the use of #Victuuri in this fic, [here's the answer to that!](https://alexwspark.tumblr.com/post/162509504770/i-absolutely-loved-that-update-thank-you-for)
> 
> [As always, come find me on Tumblr!](https://alexwspark.tumblr.com/)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happy, warm, fluffy gamers in love <3

**_San Francisco - February_**  
 

 **GAria_VNikiforov** @gavnikiforov - Feb

@gamer_eros "Yes, chat, we're dating" is officially my new favorite thing. Sorry @JINX. pic.twitter.com/Rfb80XhEfG

 

 **J!NX** @JINX - Feb

Achievement Unlocked: Dumped for @gamer_eros #sorrynotsorry #gamersinlove #Victuuri

 

 **GAria_GPopovich** @gagpopovich - Feb

@JINX GENIUS! #getaroomconspiracy is retired, spread the hashtag evolution #Victuuri

 

 **GAria_YPlisetsky** @gayplisetsky - Feb

@JINX Did someone say official merch? Hmm? #Victuuri

 

 **J!NX** @JINX - Feb

@gagpopovich Every once in a while, we surprise ourselves! @gayplisetsky We'll have our people call your people <3

 

 **2DMagic** @ajwolf84  - Feb

But Guys GUYS GUUUUUUYS imagine the fucking cosplay possibilities?! #Imliving 

 

 **GAria_MBabicheva** @gambabicheva  - Feb

@ajwolf84 asking the important questions!!! #Victuuri #Brilliant Send me your cosplay wishlist for safekeeping my pets<3

 

 **BlackJacket** @witchsbane -  Feb

WHY IS NO ONE TALKING ABOUT HOW HAPPY VICTOR LOOKS IN THAT PIC?? #Victuuri #Sobbing

 

 **GAria_CGiacometti** @gacgiacometti - Feb

@witchsbane @gamer_eros Someone sure hung the stars high today #Kittens #Victuuri

 

 **Phichit Chulanont** @thekingandthegamer -  Feb

The most fucking iconic Twitch moment of the year #callingit PROUD OF MY SONS @gamer_eros and @gavnikiforov #Victuuri

 

 **GamerLevelEros** @gamer_eros - Feb

#Victuuri...<3 @gavnikiforov

 

* * *

Maybe it's the fifty or so pounds of impeccably groomed fur happily cuddled on his chest, or the five feet and eleven inches of lithe perfection lying next to him, fingers gently intertwined with his, the most obnoxious snores adding to the comedy of the bold _6:10 a.m._ that zeroes in on his wide open eyes. Maybe it's the custom-ordered mech and photo-frame that stand next to the clock, boasting refined care even in the faint glow of morning. Maybe it's _#Victuuri_ which he secretly Loves with a capital L (though he keeps the brunt of that sentiment to himself). Or maybe it's the mild discomfort of lying on his back, the (incredibly satisfying) burn of ever loving and exceptionally brutal insistence trailing a jagged path from blade to glutes. 

Whichever it is, Yuuri wakes, a smile on his lips, and immediately  _feels_ the lightest, most existentially-telling laughter all the way to his sleep-warmed soul.

His leg experimentally shimmies to the edge of the bed and without fail, Makka pops up like the faithful familiar she is; she licks understandingly at his chin, moving over to Victor so Yuuri can salvage his lungs.

"Good girl," he praises softly, receiving a windmilled tail in return. Victor isn't unsettled by the fluffed disturbance or dips in the mattress as they move, and Yuuri leans over to kiss his forehead (Victor unconsciously turns to him at that, smile ghosting over his lips) before getting on his feet and stretching to high heaven; his muscles hum pleasantly with the strain of it, body too sated and smitten to be intolerant of any residual aches.

With his phone in hand, and hair ruffling in the other, Yuuri staggers out of Victor's room to the narrow staircase, yawn cavernous and deadly as he squints his way _up, up, up_ , and into the kitchen. A chorus of 'Good Mornings' greet him, followed by a cup of coffee being placed in his grip and buttered toast suddenly crackling between his teeth. The fresh sizzle of eggs and bacon, the protracted whipping of what he can only assume is pancake batter, and the surprisingly calming buzz of a juicer gives his senses a fizzing jolt; carbonated alchemy to the already cogent magic that envelops him after spending another night with the man he loves. His offers to help are widely ignored as he slumps into a seat in front of the island, both Mila and Chris responding with matching frowns.

"You're as difficult as Victor," Mila says, "You barely got any sleep when you got in yesterday, and you queued with Victor for hours after the reveal."

"And we all know there was no sleep to be had after all that," Chris offers him more toast with a side of alluring wink.

"It's not my fault," Yuuri covers his mouth (and a segment of his blush) while he chews, "I forgot my earplugs and Vitya's snoring woke me up."

"In case you didn't know," Chris says, "this house is a democracy, so you have our permission to kick him off of the bed next time."

"That sounds really tempting but Phichit's bringing them for me. Not that it should matter tonight."

Mila grins, "You catch on fast, sweetie. We're only sober because you boys had us on standby until the a.m. and I have a few things to tie up at the office before my vacation kicks in or else I'd be sleeping in."

"What Mila said. My boss begged me to use my charms on a particularly hotheaded client this morning, so I'll be back around lunch. By the way, what time is Phichit getting in?"

"Three, I think. But you already know that, don't you?"

"Can't a guy confirm a friend's schedule?"

Yuuri and Mila make a show of batting knowing eyelashes at a thoroughly composed Chris, who whistles and continues cooking with the meticulousness of a man who lovingly compiles his recipes in a private notebook. Even though Victor and Makkachin are still regenerating a floor below, the conversation between the three of them never lags; it's sixty frames per second of absolute ease chatting with Mila and Chris, a few wake-the-fuck-up-shakes of Yuuri's head leading him to forcefully take over pancake duty. 

 _It wasn't always like this_ , Yuuri thinks evenly as Mila launches stray whole wheat crumbs at Chris in retaliation for one of his more outlandish jokes, _it wasn't always so easy._

For a long time and much to Yuuri's exasperation, his life seemed to consist of him wandering around some procedurally generated dungeon, complete with an abundance of dead-ends and doors that led to the wide open void of no-fucking-where. Every time he felt himself closer to the end of a seemingly never-ending puzzle of disdainful glances and solitary days buried in the latest video game magazine, some less-than-whispered comment timed to his proximity chucked him right back to the start. Every point he carefully allocated away from 'shy' and 'quiet' to 'charm' and 'guts', every delicately crafted greeting or other possible ice breaker, everything was securely locked as he once again stood at the dreaded beginning, the layout before him modified and unrecognizable.

And it wasn't for a lack of attempting to, in the student counselor's monotone, 'fit in'; he had an infinite supply of lives at his disposal and no matter how devastating the blow that sent him back to square one, he re-entered the dungeon with renewed pride. Masochist? Maybe. But there was so much Yuuri wanted to say, wanted to share, wanted to contribute; his mind wound and reeled with a never-ending creative spiel of ideas and opinions that begged for a podium. Answering every question correctly in his classes didn't seem like the correct channel though, if the glares leveled at him were any reliable indication.

There were less than optimistic days, darker moments when he was convinced of his permanent status as a background character, a cut-and-paste placeholder doomed to blend in with a hundred other uninteresting replicas. 

_Where's my life-changing plot twist?_

The thought came to him one night as he helped Mari with the dishes; scraping over a single plate, gaze boring bullet holes into the wall until his sister wrapped concerned hands over his own. Mari always had her way of knowing when he was teetering near to the edge, and most days she was near enough to catch him before he fell. He sighed when she shooed him ("You can do them tomorrow, Yuuri. Go get some sleep."), shuffling to his room and face-planting his bed (much to Vicchan's excitement as he was met with a face full of slobber), a rare headache drilling for emotional carnage on his left temple. Maybe he attributed things to the wrong skill-tree. Maybe he needed to reset, restart and re-calibrate himself, a full re-customization to smooth over the rougher edges. Maybe then he would find the courage to say more than a handful of sentences per day.

But, young as Yuuri was, he was no liar, especially to himself. Third-party acceptance did not eclipse who he was and the things he loved; if long-term solitude was the price he paid for being himself, it was illogical to negotiate the terms and conditions to fit some arbitrary definition of 'fair'. He griped and winced at the words that floated behind his back, but he would not dare compromise for appearances sake.

That's what a main character did, right? He stayed true to himself first.

The day Yuuri vowed to keep his disparaging to a less than agonizing level, the energized twist that was Phichit Chulanont swooped into his life, plopping with vibrance into the seat next to him, pointing conversationally at the stack of magazines in front of his lunch-kit as he unwrapped his own sandwich.

"This month's issue is so good! What game are you looking forward to? I'm really excited for..."

Yuuri - face half covered by glossed pages now smushed against his skin, eyes flitting to the curious frowns coming their way - gulped. This boy, the transfer student with the fine jet black hair that framed pure candor and smoky eyes that reminded him of a well-practiced mage, was speaking very quickly and very animatedly and Yuuri was _very_ confused.

"...your name?"

Yuuri blinked, "What?"

"I'm Phichit, by the way." Phichit repeated with a smile, zero-judgement cast upon Yuuri's very obvious social ineptitude, "What's your name?"

"Yuuri." His voice was cloaked by the magazine he clutched like a protective mask, "Um. Hi. Phichit. Wouldn't you...um..." Yuuri gave a stunted nod to the rest of the lunch room.

Phichit looked around at the faces snapping away from them when they were caught staring, attention coming back to Yuuri with an uninterested shrug to the evident spectacle; Yuuri wasn't sure if that meant Phichit understood what he was trying to convey ( _No one ever sits with me! This is your first day here! Leave while you still can! What are you doing?!_ ) and Phichit made no further mention of it. Fifteen minutes later, as Phichit polished off his lunch and flipped through one of the older magazines, Yuuri slid over his most recent issue, pointing at the page with a short "I can't wait to play this one."

Phichit whooped loudly, launching into what had to be a previously documented bullet-pointed agreement complete with follow-up questions that had Yuuri smiling and relaxing through the latter half of their mid-day break. 

And that's how his friendship with Phichit always felt: elementary, as though set in some unworldly code; Phichit became the Magician to his Fool Arcana, and through their eclectic bond, Yuuri found his voice, one that would carry him to a fan portal of epic intent, his GamerLevelEros alias, the night of his first stream, and a racing heart worthy of a Horizon Motorsport debut when GAria_VNikiforov subscribed to his channel.

Now, more than a decade later and in much the same bewildering way that Yuuri hasn't properly verbalized (because what can he say to do any of it justice?), he finds himself with a third family in the form of Grand Aria and Victor.  

"Phichit hasn't changed at all, has he?" Chris chuckles, generously topping off Yuuri's coffee.

"He's taller, more handsome and, insanely well-read," Yuuri says proudly, "Other than that, nope. Phichit is the same impulsive guy who sat in the trenches with me even though I insisted he was fucking crazy. He's steadfast that way and now he has the credentials and reputation to back his, and I quote, _initiative_."

" _Both_ of your reputations are forces to be reckoned with." Mila says; her red locks seem to flare alongside her sternness, "Don't even think about selling yourself short after that story, Yuuri."

Yuuri smiles at that; he never has any trouble speaking highly of those close to him, but he's still completing the tutorial on doing the same for himself, "Not at all, but I have a lifetime quota of good things to say even if Phichit was joking about invoicing me for his overtime at the convention."

Chris breaks into laughter, "If he wasn't, feel free to have him split it six ways. I'd foot the fucking bill myself if he'd let me."

"You can negotiate with him when he gets in later."

"Oh, I intend to. After we're sure he's comfortable, of course."

Yuuri and Mila share a smirk, and Mila ruffles his hair dotingly, "What the Not-So-Smooth-Operator is really trying to say is that we're glad you're both making yourselves at home with us."

"Honestly, thanks for making it so easy."

There's nothing but sincerity in that admittance. Yuuri's original home-base in Napa has always been his constant; it's influenced more by the people close to him than the actual physical location but he loves both aspects nonetheless. His and Phichit's apartment is equally home, filled to capacity with the warm and wild spread of geek and their inexorable brotherhood. And now, Yuuri has discovered in the most whimsical fashion that there is never a dull moment in the Nikiforov-Plisetsky-Babicheva-Popovich-Giacometti household.

The house itself feels like a massive fort, a masterpiece scouted for some epic AAA location; it spans up, as most properties do in this city, three storeys of clean lines, hardwood floors, and an unblemished radiance, a muse for any Unreal Engine enthusiast. GA, in return, is a five-man group of pure energy, unorthodox coordination, and above all, contagious warmth. Every inch of the place bleeds personality, a kaleidoscope of work and play that continuously leaves Yuuri dizzy. For Yuuri to feel unhesitatingly at home in a place so new still leaves him speechless.

_"Home, home...that should go on a t-shirt somehow," Victor considered._

_"Well, I'm the only one who thought the 'Same Server 2017' wouldn't go out-of-stock so..."_

_"I'm sure JINX will love it if we put hashtag-Victuuri to good use."_

Adding San Francisco to his fast-travel list ( _"That's the phrase I was looking for!" Victor gazed adoringly at him_ ) is the least complicated decision Yuuri has ever made...which is not to say that there weren't or won't be complexities; theirs isn't a linear progression and there's no walk-through for his and Victor's unique brand of breakneck adventure. 

Victor is a versatile wielder; armed with his razor-sharp charm, rambunctious bombs of admiration, and nerve-destructing tenderness that can never hope to be nerfed. Yuuri loves him with the force of a hammer cracking open the earth, clinging to that last night of the convention, the inimitable turning point for them both that for years was housed only in fantasy. The end of their ever so long prologue and the beginning of those once unreachable chapters brings with it unexplored terrain, large fragments of which come into view only after they've gained reasonable experience to warrant unimpeded vision.

While many things change (there was so much more to discover now), the already cultivated familiarity makes much of it feel the same. It's not always a good thing; Yuuri is well aware that Victor has a deep foothold in wanting to respect him and offer no disappointment at any turn, a staunchness that leads to some odd moments between them. Yuuri doesn't mind when they arise, not at all; it's the sadness in Victor's eyes during those times, like he's convinced he's upending them both, that causes Yuuri's heart to constrict. 

Inviting Victor to Las Vegas seemed like a no-brainer but the two weeks following the convention, where Victor's voice fluctuated in octaves, mounting and flattening like he was baiting an enemy and constantly failing, made Yuuri flinch. He didn't expect an immediate answer but his consternation had no where to go except up as Victor's hesitation became more formidable. What surprised Yuuri was the smooth fold of his rationality over what he knew was an anxious response just waiting to flank; he trusted Victor (always had, always will) and he needed Victor to realize that it was okay to come to him _with anything_ now that they were a couple.

Yuuri's patience bore fruit late one night, phone vibrating under his pillow and pulling him from sleep; Victor was trying to video call him. Yuuri switched on his bedside lamp and sat up, answering the call sluggishly.

"Victor?"

"Yuuri! I'm so sorry I woke you up. I know it's late. I couldn't sleep. You look adorable, by the way."

Victor smiled, a tired one that mirrored his much too flustered voice; Yuuri estimated he was at least three or four coffees too caffeinated. Yuuri slipped out of bed and padded around so he didn't inadvertently close his eyes again, alert now to whatever Victor needed to say to him.

"So do you. It's okay, babe. I told you, call me anytime you want. Are you okay?"

"It's just..." Even without his glasses, Yuuri still saw the faint lines creasing Victor's forehead, made more prominent as he struggled with his explanation, "I know I've been a complete asshole lately and you've been nothing but sweet about it."

"You haven't been an asshole."

"Yes I have and I'm really sorry about it. I...I probably told you this before but since we all moved out to San Francisco, GA has these birthday rituals..."

_Progress!_

"Oh yeah, I remember those." Yuuri acknowledged, smiling brightly in the hope that it would help settle Victor's tension. It did, but Victor's reluctance to continue was a trait drenched in the old habits developed over the course of their early friendship. Much of it was a letter to circumstance, _Yuuri's_ circumstance and it seemed Victor was still stepping over eggshells and making his way out of his own stilted dungeon. The new skill-tree they unlocked would take time to flourish, Yuuri knew that, and he was constantly thinking of ways to show Victor he had a partner to endure the remaining locked doors and dead-ends; he never wanted Victor to think that Yuuri doubted the decision he made in earlier that month. 

"Is that what you've been trying to tell me?" Yuuri insisted gently.

"Yes. Part of it. Don't get me wrong, I want to meet you in Vegas, I really do but..." Victor's mouth made several aborted open and closed movements before he fixed Yuuri with a pleading look. 

"But they're family." Yuuri supplied and his face scrunched as it all clicked into the place, the error he made in phrasing his invite; it was always meant for five, not just one, "Oh shit, Victor, I'm ridiculous. I thought it was understood that GA is invited. I want _all of you_ to come to Vegas with Phichit and I."

"What?" Victor squeaked, completely taken aback by this new revelation, "Yuuri. Love. _No_."

"No? I don't understand-"

"You don't have to do that." Victor shook his head like that was that, "They care about you too and they don't want you to think you have to do anything just because of me. They still don't know your name or what you look like or anything too specific. They've made it clear that they want you to take your time if you ever decide to fly out here. However long it takes, it doesn't matter."

He said his piece so earnestly that Yuuri felt his insides stutter and lips tug upwards;  _Victor's trying to shield me_ , "And what exactly was the plan if I did visit? It's not like they can stay at a hotel while I'm there."

"We already agreed that they'd stay with my parents."

Yuuri made a disapproving noise, "Victor, that's stupid. It's their home too."

"My parents were the ones who suggested it."

"Victor."

"I don't see what the problem is. GA thinks it's a great idea too."

_"Victor."_

"You've done enough for me, Yuuri."

 _Enough? Oh, Victor..._ Yuuri was one more misplaced conversation on what Victor deserved from booking a flight to San Francisco and showing up on his boyfriend's doorstep unannounced. 

"Isn't that for me to decide?" Yuuri asked softly. Victor looked somewhat stricken.

"Of course it is."

"Do you trust me?"

"Of course I do, Yuuri. But-"

"No buts," Yuuri interjected, "Love, you really think I would offer to do this if I didn't mean it? You know me too well for that. I _want_ to meet them, and I prefer to do it sooner rather than later."

" _Yuuuuuuri_ , I hear you but-"

Yuuri waved a sleepy hand, "No buts, Victor. I appreciate all the concern but...haven't we had enough complications for one lifetime?" He traced the outline of Victor's jaw on the screen, wishing they were having this conversation in person, "I want...I just want to be with you."

Victor quieted at his familiar sigh, completely overwhelmed with the soft confession and the fresh rise of pink in Yuuri's cheeks.

"Phichit is my family. GA is yours. Please bring them to Vegas."

Victor stared at him for a long time, face regaining some of its habitual sparkle, "Okay, okay. You win. Send me your itinerary and I'll fill them in tonight."

Yuuri beamed, "I love you."

"I love you, too." Victor furrowed an eyebrow, smile quirking suddenly, "Out of curiosity...Phichit has files on all of us, doesn't he?"

"GA apparently volunteered information at the convention. Phichit said they were all a hair away from giving him their social security numbers."

"Ah."

Yuuri was adopted in three seconds flat in the Mandarin Suite of the Oriental, Phichit and Victor barely making it through the introduction before GA self-destructed; Georgi broke into tears, Christophe was struck speechless for the first time in his life, Yuri choked upon realizing they shared the same name, and Mila abandoned all formality to wrap him into a massive hug that, curiously, Yuuri didn't feel the need to shy away from. Victor, fidgeting in the background as Yuuri stepped up to the four people closest to him, visibly calmed when Yuuri shared a relaxed smile with him. 

"Victor didn't actually tell us why he chose Vegas until we flew into the city," Mila says thoughtfully, "Nearly gave us all a fucking heart attack."

"Sounds like Victor. He was worried right up to that night. I saved the message thread comprised entirely of keyboard smashes."

"At the very least, it's good to know he finally has someone to keep him in check. That hard-headed precociousness requires a firm leash."

"What about a leash?" Victor yawns his way into the discussion, settling next to Yuuri and onto his shoulder. 

"Nothing!" Yuuri says quickly, shooting Mila and Chris a look, "By the way, where's Georgi and Yuri? They disappeared last night."

"They spent the night with mom and dad," Victor takes the pancakes that Chris plates for him and picks the honey from the row of condiments, "Georgi's consulting with dad's department on a new project and Yuri wanted mom's help with his thesis. They'll be back for the festivities, don't worry."

"Speaking of which," Chris glances at the clock, "We need to get going. No need for anyone to get fired before my birthday. Mila, you want to drive or should I?"

"It's my turn today. Plus, I'll finish before you and I need to make a few stops anyway."

"You guys have the list?"

Yuuri waves his phone in response and presses a chaste kiss to Victor's shoulder as two-fifths of GA make their exit. Victor flushes happily at the attention, listening intently that his friends are out of earshot before leveling Yuuri with an absolutely devious look. 

"How's your back, babe?" Victor coos, slicing innocently into his breakfast.

"Hmm. I don't know. How's your ass?"

_"Ruined."_

_This fucking man._ Yuuri is admittedly too exhausted for things to go any further than, possibly, heavy petting, but that doesn't stop him from tugging restlessly at Victor's t-shirt, hauling Victor into his arms and devouring his lips without prelude. A fork clinks helplessly against floral ceramic as they indulge in a proper good morning; languid, suffusing, shimmering with each passing minute.

"How are _you_?" Victor whispers, knuckles warm in passing over his cheek.

Yuuri tucks away some locks that have fallen out of Victor's short ponytail and kisses him sweetly; if they have time later, he'll ask Victor if he can braid it and the answer, as always, will be yes. Usually, they'll sit with Makka in the living room and cycle through Twitch or Netflix or old episodes of Monster Factor, forget the passage of time, and laugh their way into the night. Victor will hold Yuuri's forearm reverently, lips smooth over his tattoos, sleeping beasts seeming to come to life when Victor whispers devotion over the indelible marks. He'll lean contentedly against Yuuri's chest and tell him wonderful, dazzling things that Yuuri still can't fully internalize. 

Yuuri doesn't have to answer his boyfriend, not lately, but in the quiet of the moment he offers Victor the simplicity of it.

"But you already know, Vitya. I'm _happy_."

 

* * *

Phichit steps through the door and right into calculated chaos: Yuuri and Victor on the phone, shouting over the din as their respective moms recount the katsudon and borscht recipes for them; Chris and Georgi giving Yuuri and Victor's morning shopping a once-over which is heavily hindered by the bottle of vodka they’ve almost demolished; Mila and Yuri attempting to give Makka a bath on the back porch only to end up chasing her through most of the house, much to the chagrin of the hardwood floors. They're all soaked, woozy, and exuberant, embracing the afternoon as it devolves into an intoxicating kind of madness. 

With a sixty-percent sobriety level and rapidly declining, they somehow manage to pull together for the sake of dinner, a collectively wise collaboration that renews them all for more drinks. Borscht is a regular favorite that Yuuri and Phichit laud over with gusto, while GA cries into their bowls of katsudon, unwilling to believe they've never tried something so _fucking gastronomical_. 

Yuuri takes a bottle and lines the shot glasses ("With every death comes honor _and_ a drink."), breaking from the traditional GA FPS session to instead document the night's proceedings. There's no stream to accompany it, despite yearly begging from the community, but Twitter and Instagram are fair game, and Yuuri is going to enjoy his stepping back for two reasons:

1\. He'll tire less quickly and can better monitor his drinking if he's a bystander tonight.

2\. GA doesn't yet know about the sleeper cell that is Phichit Chulanont and his penchant for cigar-toting cowboys and brewed-to-perfection grandmas.

"How come we've never seen you play?" Georgi asks as their six-stack queues for a competitive match on their alt accounts. 

Phichit shrugs, "Yuuri has."

GA eyes him suspiciously, moving to Yuuri who is a clone of his best friend's feigned indifference. Only Victor picks out the mischief underneath, mouth eddying in confusion as they enter the streets of London.

Journeying to three sheets to the wind doesn't stop Phichit from gracing GA with some of the finest High Noons and Sleep Darts he's ever pulled off. Head-shot after head-shot, knock-out after knock-out, Phichit frags out as GA contends to stare stupidly at him.

"What the fuck?" Yuri studies the half-empty vodka bottle in Yuuri's hand, "How much did we drink? Because the sleep on that _ulting_ ninja was _impossible_."

"Man, you had me at that crouch flank last game," Georgi pushes aside his mouse, "Time to retire, boys and girl."

Yuuri grins when Chris spins to face him, "You knew about this, didn't you?"

"Obviously," he and Phichit reply together.

"Jesus," Mila starts.

"Christ," and Victor ends.

"I vote more shots," Chris follows that proclamation by kissing Phichit square on the cheek, "That's for the birthday present I didn't know I needed, darling."

The night continues in exactly that vein of crazed heroics, boisterous entertainment that requires no filter or decorum. It's past three a.m. when everyone eventually runs out of steam, passing out heavily in the living room, a hoard of blankets and pillows having been dumped there earlier in the day. Yuuri's Twitter is an absolute mess, not from alcohol but from excitement; no doubt their followers will have their share of fun deciphering it all.

 **  
**  
**gamerleveleros**  
 

(Shot of GA + Phichit + Makkachin asleep on the couches and floor)

 **gamerleveleros** Happy Birthday @gacgiacometti! #family. Twitter for more live blogs from tonight <3

 

"Hey, you okay, babe?"

Yuuri glances away from his phone and down at Victor who slowly disentangles himself from Makka and noiselessly moves over to him. 

"Yeah. I got up to use the bathroom."

Victor kisses his hair, and they both watch the team sleep, grunts and snores blending into one another, inebriation at the optimal degree for the noises to be ambient. Victor slides his fingers through Yuuri's own, squeezing lightly. 

"Come with me. I was going to show you this before you flew out but I want to do it now. While we're alone."

They walk down to the second floor, past Victor's studio and to another room that Yuuri's never been in. When Victor opens the door, Yuuri's heart jumps erratically into his throat, gasp rolling inaudibly from his mouth; there's a brand new desk, gaming chair and second screen (similar to the ones he has back in Orange County), plushies and Pop! collectibles from his favorite games line the space along with a variety of video game magazines, a few of his favorite books, new peripherals, and extra cords and extensions. There's a collage of photos on the walls, framing the sides of the desk with all the memories they've collected so far.

He doesn't know the tears are there until Victor thumbs them from his cheek.

"Victor..."

"I wanted you to have somewhere of your own to work when you're here," Victor bounces on his heels, "It's quiet on this side of the house, and no one will ever disturb you once they know you're in here, including me. And well...I like it when you leave stuff here. I like seeing you around the house even when you're in Orange County."

That cuts cleanly through Yuuri, the attention to all his little details, even the darker ones that still creeps from the void to hold him in a vice grip. This is more than considerate, more than a gift. Yuuri is...he's flayed open by the sheer devotion that Victor shows him with each passing day.

"But w-we agreed to no V-Valentine's gifts. V-Victor this is s-so much..."

Victor hugs him tight and Yuuri feels the laughter vibrate across his trembling frame, "We did but this isn't for that trash holiday, love. This is...it's much more than that."

Why it suddenly feels like he hasn't seen Victor in years is beyond him; it's the strangest prickle across his rising pores, like coming back to a game after months, last known setting oddly visceral and altogether haunting. Yuuri grabs two handfuls of Victor's t-shirt, inching them both towards the desk, breath harsh and expression determined; he doesn't care about anything else but being in Victor's arms.

"Make love to me. Make love to me _right now_ , Vitya."

And just when Yuuri thinks he can't accommodate any more emotions - not with Victor divesting him of his clothes, or murmuring _'I love you'_ and _'I'd do anything for you'_ and _'It's never too much, Yuuri. Not with you'_   or trailing feathery kisses along his neck - he has no choice but to when he discovers that the room is fully and flawlessly soundproofed.

 

* * *

**flowercrownsandskates**  
 

(Photo of JINX's Limited Edition Tank and Archer themed t-shirts, complete with #Victuuri and line art of Victor and Eros)

 ** **gavnikiforov, gamerleveleros****  and  ** **2,370 others****

 ** **flowercrownsandskates**** #regram @jinxdotcom OMG have you all seen these?! Pre-orders are open for five days and they're only taken a limited amount per day asdfghjklghjkasdgl! #Victuuri 

View 920 comments

 **teaandcrumpets** THE SITE JUST CRASHED IN THE MIDDLE OF MY ORDER NOOOOOOOO @jinxdotcom

 ** **trex_hands**** Holy shit! Where is that line art of @gamerleveleros from??? There's never been a shot of him like that from the back!

 ** **thekingandthegamer**** @trex_hands You're welcome

 **mywanderlustqueen** @jinxdotcom Imagine if we ever get @gamerleveleros' origin story, the merch is gonna be fucking AMAZING

 ** **jinxdotcom****  @mywanderlustqueen Our team's holding their breath if we're ever so blessed #prayercircle #victuuri  
February 28

 

* * *

**_Orange County - March_**  
 

Yuuri covets San Francisco as much as Victor does Orange County and it fills Yuuri with a contentment lined in the finest leather, enchantments blessed by olden starbursts weaving into the seams of both their lives as they become more intimate with each other's personal space. 

He and Phichit aren't connoisseurs of an impressive three-storey spread but their spacious yet cozy two-bedroom apartment is anything but uninspired; Phichit fancies it a new-age cathedral minus the quintessential stained glass, light bouncing across polished wood and caressing promises across the the leftover visages of white. Upon entry, the Gospel according to Geek is instantaneous, evidence of their many years as gamers, the many conventions they've attended, and Yuuri's lineup of sponsors covering every available surface. An abundance of swag lines the walls, shelves and even the ground walked upon (the living room rug a gift from Yuuri's community when he hit five thousand subscribers). There is no genre precedent in the Katsuki-Chulanont household; from paying respects to the [greatest video game sequence in history](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=94qpNn2_BxY&t=56s) ("Agreed." Phichit said when they cleared a spot for the collector's edition) to all the indie features he streamed over the years, many of them on Phichit's recommendation ("This art style is fucking amazing, chat! Please go scream good things to the studio about the [soundtrack](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-zA1jRmAYfU&t=555s)!"). 

The second Victor walked through the door after their Las Vegas debate, his awe was a tangible, craftable thing and Yuuri greedily farmed it in its abundance as Victor sauntered around; fingers brushed figurines, plushies, and posters, eyes sparkled at the familiarity of the books and magazines, smile new and altogether hooked as he ghosted through the surroundings with a contained sense of _wow_. Yuuri stood in the back-line, far enough that his own nerves were kept in check but just in range to encourage Victor to explore as he pleased.

"Is he okay?" Phichit whispered; they watched Victor stare at Yuuri's setup for ten minutes, unsure of whether to disturb him or not, he looked so peaceful. Yuuri glanced over at his unmoving boyfriend; Victor's back was to them, but Yuuri spotted the soft flush on the back of his neck, a tell that needed no translation today. As if sensing Yuuri's attention, Victor's head titled to the side, cheek plush from a gathering smile.  
Yuuri swore he heard the gentle curl of a wave close to the shore...

"He's like me." Yuuri said in a hushed tone, slicing clean through the watermelon and passing the segments to Phichit to cube, "It's like previously unannounced DLC. We're both still getting used to, well, _everything_."

"Story of your entire relationship, things being made up as you all went along." Phichit chuckled, "Procedurally generated romance, if you will."

Yuuri turned to his friend with a start; the random nature of that statement, and out of Phichit's mouth no less, was not lost on Yuuri. Phichit's eyebrows furrowed amusedly and Yuuri gave a grateful smile in explanation, one that widened when Victor offered to get dinner started. It was yet another evening when Yuuri appreciated his and Phichit's decision to soundproof the apartment, the sounds of the trio's impromptu playlist [sing-a-long](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZTmcBbkU0kw&list=PLwasivbGWvmRlQkZDqc5fMBbpTmBmzg8v) sure to have otherwise disturbed the neighbors. 

Victor's second visit adds to the character log Yuuri has compiled over their five months together; Yuuri already knows that Victor wears glasses on and off ("Yuuri, you're staring." "L-Like you weren't expecting that response!"), he takes his coffee with an obscene amount of sweetener ("Ugh." Yuuri sniffed. "Not as disgusting as drinking it straight black." "Touche."), and has a formidable collection of jackets and hoodies that mysteriously find their way to Orange County ("I've been looking for this." Victor grinned, holding out the premium J!NX hoodie while Yuuri willed his blush to fuck off). 

Now, there's Victor getting increasingly more stubborn with the most superfluous things ("Victor, we've been through this, you're our guest-" "It's just a little bit of cleaning..." "Why are you like this?" "Yuuri, I will chase you with this vacuum if that's what I have to do." "You. Wouldn't. Dare- Victor _no_!"); he spends his streams from Yuuri's apartment gushing about all the gaming paraphernalia surrounding him ("Aww chat, you know I can't turn on the camera. House rules! Damn right, Drake_Nathan, Eros _is_ the boss of me."); and he's becoming more bold in covertly trading with Phichit for Eros-era content ("Some videos from the first week he streamed. Don't say a word." Yuuri heard Phichit's whisper and Victor's subsequent groan of thanks). 

The best discovery of the play-through is that even if Yuuri leaves his bed, Victor will sleep past _both_ their alarms when he's tucked under Yuuri's blanket and around his pillows. It's the heightened effect of the Yuuri Katsuki Element, and Yuuri always leaves Victor to it; his boyfriend is strong-willed (see: hard-headed), pushing rough hours and brushing it off like he's not five paces from crashing. 

 _That's not the only reason_ , Yuuri thinks with a pause, leaning against the bedroom door with a smile. Light snores fill the air as Victor lies on his stomach, sheets tangled around his bare waist, silver hair splayed messy, grazing his shoulders (Yuuri nearly gives up on his scheduled morning errands on that factor alone). Victor is the exemplar of concept art, the strokes of him bold but tasteful, striking but not conceited; Yuuri can almost imagine him with a scar over his left eye, the steel and silver swords at his back, Signs flowing from his unarmed palm (a.k.a Yuuri's favorite Victor Nikiforov cosplay). He's breathtaking, especially in these quiet, unhindered moments, and Yuuri feels breathless, tip-toeing over to pull the linen over his back and plant a lingering kiss on his shoulder. 

It's some time after ten, his and Phichit's dry-cleaning, a new external hard-drive and a tub of cookie dough ice-cream in hand, when Yuuri returns to find Victor in much the same position. _Success._  He preps the coffee machine for fresh brews, gathers some chopped fruit into a bowl, and heads into his room with both, depositing the items on the nightstand before nuzzling into Victor's hair.

"Hey, sleeping beauty."

Victor hums, reaching blindly behind him until he finds Yuuri, "Where'd you go?"

Yuuri crawls in next to him, arm folding over his waist, "I had a few documents to drop off at the office, and I made some stops along the way. Nothing exciting."

"It's late, isn't it?" 

"Yup."

Victor gives an apologetic grunt, "Why do you insist on caring for my stubborn ass?"

"Because I happen to be very attached to your stubborn ass." Yuuri gives a light slap to said rump for good measure. Victor squirms, laugh muffled into the mattress.

"Thanks for not waking me."

"Anytime, love." Yuuri whispers along his neck, kisses light and loving, "I have a few contracts to look over. Do you mind? I'll be right outside."

"Nope. I'll be here, being a potato." Victor yawns, settling back in much to Yuuri's relief, "You're too good to me, babe."

With Phichit in San Francisco and Victor being unbelievably compliant one room away, the apartment is much quieter than usual; if it were an alternate universe (the one he sometimes still dreams of, heart aching at the thought of 'what if'), Yuuri would go as far as to use the term 'melancholy'. He's cross-legged and snug on the couch, focus running for a full hour instead of the usual ten minutes bursts that they're accustomed to with a full house. The draft email to one of his long-time sponsors is close to finish, a perfect cue for Victor strolling into the living room and making his way straight to Yuuri's lap. Yuuri plucks out his earphones, shifting the laptop and removing his glasses before a full length of half-bare Russian is draped over him, stubble scraping gently across his cheek, kisses chasing it exactly the way Yuuri always craves. He giggles helplessly at the sensation.

"Miss me?"

Victor huffs, fighting the growing smile under it; he loves being teased as much as Yuuri does, even if he won't admit it, "What makes you think that?"

Yuuri tilts his head in favor of a stream of minty kisses, "Just a hunch." A hunch fueled by multiple iterations of such mornings, every single one of them filled with more affection than Yuuri knows what to do with. There are not enough vials in the universe to bottle it all, not enough regions to market its uncompromising purity, not enough centuries to spread it thin enough that its potency is challenged. It's an impossible thing, the way Victor makes him feel like he's constantly in flight, time doing nothing to decrease the altitude or deter the strength of it. 

"Mmm, did you steal my cologne?"

 _Don't I always?_ Yuuri tries to blindside Victor with a full kiss, muttering something about being in a hurry that morning (blatant lie) and not paying attention to what he picked up (actually a deliberate choice). Victor laughs, enjoying his attempt not to look like he's increased the threat level of his red-handed solo group, thumbing at the spot behind Yuuri's ear that never fails to ignite a special collection of moans Yuuri never knew he was capable of. Their entire world whittles down to that couch, Victor leaning in closer to mouth praise against the pink that clouds Yuuri's cheeks, sinking into Yuuri's hold, shivering when Yuuri runs warms hands along his back; the path of Yuuri's fingertips is a top-five cheat discovered over time - _up, up, down, down, left, right, left, right..._

The finishing _B_ and _A_  become hungry kisses, deep, sugary things that swirls incandescence into Yuuri's system, something he has only felt particles of with a mouse or controller in his hand, something he hopes to experience with Victor forever.

"I'm thinking lunch." Victor says, voice a little more gruff than said declaration requires and hands clearly not on the same page as they travel to his thighs; it's a wonder they get anything done when they're together, "Anything in mind?"

"Is thai okay with you?"

Victor presses his lips to him, this time consciously messier and bordering on a raspberry on his cheek. Yuuri squeals and swots him away, watching with bluffed annoyance as Victor bounces to the stack of take-out brochures on the table, victory in his step. He shoots Yuuri a provoking wink, disappearing into the bedroom, announcing cheerfully that he'll shower after making the order. Yuuri grins but doesn't follow (he's already two down with that ongoing game), donning his glasses instead so he can finish his email and start another. A shrill notification rings out as he presses send on the second one.

 

 **From: Phichit**   Mar 10

Don't forget the flash sale!

 

 **To: Phichit**   Mar 10

Fuck, thanks for the reminder

 

 **From: Phichit**   Mar 10

Figured you'd need it 

 

 **To: Phichit**   Mar 10

You're one to talk!

 

He moves over to his setup, switching on his PS4 and scrolling absently through his immediate gaming lineup, toe tapping in time with the remnants of the soundtracks Victor had running during his stream last night. Before he can open the Store app, Victor is coming over to him waving a hand excitedly, wearing nothing but boxers and one of Yuuri's old GDC t-shirts. 

"Wait, go back!" Yuuri does and Victor's movements flourish even more, "You have the [Anthology](https://store.playstation.com/#!/en-us/games/metal-slug-anthology/cid=UP0576-CUSA03749_00-SLUS215500000001)! Holy shit, how come we never thought to play this on stream?" 

It's a great question, now that Yuuri thinks about it, "I don't know. I didn't even know you were a fan."

"Are you kidding me?" Victor palms at his shoulder and Yuuri almost believes Victor's about to vault over him, "You're looking at the undefeated king. GA has nothing on my high scores. Georgi got pretty close but not close enough."

It's Victor's confidence that stokes that telltale ember in Yuuri's gut, "Hmm. Have you ever played it without dying?"

"Please. Think about the trains. That alone accounts for three-quarters of your deaths." 

Yuuri frowns, eyes playful as they glance over to his boyfriend, "Funny, since I can."

"You're fucking with me."

"No. I mean, we can fix that, but I feel like this is a conversation we'll want to finish."

And there it is, the beautiful fiery flash that brings out the full potential of Victor's blue; Yuuri watches as he stills and considers the possible trap underfoot. His body is a study in elegance, expression flamed, further stoked by Yuuri's arched brow and unrelenting smirk.

"Are you challenging me?"

Oh, Yuuri fucking _loves_ this; bow tightly drawn, shot lined and expertly tracked. Their propositions were so much more... _wicked_ now that they were in the same room together. Victor's question gives him pause, upcoming reaction unsure of whether to adrenalize his competitiveness or his cock (both). Yuuri taps his index finger on Victor's nose, a little condescending, a whole lot goading.

"Do you want me to?"

" _Yuuuuuri_ ," Victor steps into Yuuri's bubble, forcing him to skitter back and sit gracelessly on his gaming chair as he's caged in, "what are your terms for this pseudo-1v1?"

Not to be outdone by the intense flare of cobalt swallowing him, Yuuri raises a knee and his smugness; Victor glances down between his thighs with a smirk, "One play-through on stream. The one with the least deaths wins. Chat and mods will keep track for us. If I win..." Yuuri trails off thoughtfully, knee dragging an inch forward then backwards.

Victor exhales, ten percent wounded by the sheer gall, "I'm listening. _If_ you win..."

"Oh, I just realized it probably won't matter anyway," Yuuri sings, "since I'm going to kick your ass, Nikiforov."

Victor's lips skim his own and Yuuri involuntarily shudders, "Are you sure you know what you're getting yourself into, Katsuki? Because it would be a shame if all this self-assurance went to waste."

Yuuri slides from his chair, walking to the shelf opposite and fishing out a small whiteboard from the top level. He grabs a marker, scribbles for a bit and holds it up for a curious Victor to peruse. The maddened sulk is worthy of a screenshot:

 ** _Challenge (noun) - a call for two persons to partake in a competitive situation or Katsuki > Nikiforov_**  
   
"Did we really have sex last night?"

"Thin ice, Nikiforov," Yuuri tuts, "and you know very well that I can break you apart with one kiss the same way I can out-survive you in-game."

" _One?_ _One_ kiss? Ambitious minx."

"Let's graph it shall we." Yuuri erases the definition with his forearm and plots an X (Time) and Y (Composure) axis, "This was where you started at the beginning of the night," he points to the very top left, "and this is where you ended up five minutes later." He points to the bottom, the end of a comically steep line. 

"Oh, you want to be clever?" Victor snatches the whiteboard, drawing an even more exaggerated representation of their escapade, "This is where you started and this where you ended when I got my mouth on you. Deny it."

"Doesn't change the fact that my stamina trumps yours."

"But will that help you survive a hoard of squelching aliens? Not likely." Victor throws the whiteboard on the couch and Yuuri grins with him

"Terms?"

"If I win, I'll show just how on par my stamina is with yours, Katsuki."

"Mmm, tempting. But this isn't the hair-flip incident and I'm not going down so easy."

Victor's eyes narrow, "You did last night. _Begged_ for it-"

"If I win, you mouthy bastard," Yuuri's resilience is caught between calling for reinforcements and whining uncontrollably, "we're painting over the pink convertible your parents bought for you in college."

"I'm sorry. _What?_ "

"You heard me."

Victor sighs, helping himself to a controller, "Presumptuous. Cocky. Borderline disrespectful. I'm going to enjoy winning this."

"Kiss for good luck?" Both their sultry fall to the side as they share a long kiss; the glint returns with a blinding force the second they part, "Now, show me what you've got."

 

* * *

**GamerLevelEros**  @gamer_eros - Mar

Off-day stream in ten. #MetalSlugX. The one with the least deaths wins @gavnikiforov

 

 **GAria_VNikiforov**  @gavnikiforov - Mar

@gamer_eros It's on. #Kappa

 

 **Phichit Chulanont**  @thekingandthegamer - Mar

@gamer_eros @gavnikiforov You guys have no chill #VictuuriChallenge  #MetalSlugX

 

 **Recon_isrusty** @minamk - Mar

@gamer_eros @gavnikiforov Just when I thought my day was gonna be boring #VictuuriChallenge

 

 **Theoneandonlyyen** @alesandraf - Mar  

@gamer_eros @gavnikiforov Not that I'm complaining but you guys need to learn what the term 'day-off' means lol #VictuuriChallenge

 

 **J!NX** @JINX - Mar

Place your bets now! We'll pick five random winners for the Limited Edition #Victuuri merch if you correctly guess who'll reign supreme! #VictuuriChallenge #Eros #Nikiforov #Chooseyourside

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oooooooo, my boys are about to get dicey! 
> 
> The game they're about to play is Metal Slug X, from the Metal Slug Anthology. MSX is a classic run-and-gun video game complete with aliens, mummies and a whole lotta ways to take down enemies! I have such amazing memories playing this game, and I highly recommend it (currently available on PS4!).
> 
> Look out for epic Twitch conversations, lots of competitive banter, and surprisingly, angst? (Tell me your theories on Tumblr for how Chapter 2 will end!)


	2. Vivi Ornitier

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The past infiltrates the present and Victor reveals a secret he's been holding on to for much too long.
> 
> (For simplicity, the Twitch chat in this chapter will only show the nametags for GA. I didn't want to clutter things since this is a long one).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Trigger Warning: Heavy descriptions of anxiety attack.**  
> 
> This chapter was incredibly difficult for me to write and I'm riding a hell of a lot of nervousness sharing it. Your support, as always, means the world to me, thank you!
> 
> A ton of love to the following:
> 
> 1\. My first ever beta [flower-crowns-and-skates](https://flower-crowns-and-skates.tumblr.com/). Thank you, gem <3 
> 
> 2\. The amazingly talented [peaches-onice, who drew this amazing art of our fav Gamer Boyfriends ](https://peaches-onice.tumblr.com/post/163038850875/gamer-boyfriends-im-out-of-practice-so-i-cut-off) <3

**_Late 2015_ **

_B-Breathe._

_Deep. Breaths. Inhale. O-One, two. Exhale. T-Two, one._

_Repeat. Inhale. One, t-two-_

_Breathe all you like. It'll never fill that void. You know the one, Katsuki. The one your constant disappointments leave behind?_

Yuuri grinds his forehead against the apartment door, struggling endlessly with the key; his analog is stuck, hands an animated glitch of careless wobbles. Desperately jabbing at his _X_ button fails him, seconds pinching mockingly at his nerves.

The eventuality of him entering his home does nothing to quell the tremors. The wherewithal to empty his inventory are all pre-constructed options: remove shoes, drape hoodie over rack, drop glasses and contents of pocket into the Triforce-embellished bowl to his right...

_There's a potter in the community, what was her name again?_

_Can't even remember your own loyal viewers? Sellout._  

His mind steers him across the threshold and to the least illuminated corner of his room. He contorts, crouching and folding, pushing against the blackout curtains, trying to move the cursor; he can't access his settings, can't switch off the oncoming sobs, can't pause the replay of this horribly stormy day - the loss of his precious color-coded notes, the exam accounting for a quarter of his grade that he's sure he flunked, the four projects he's freelancing on, the stream he needs to be coherent for in a few hours-

_What would your community say if they knew you were this pathetic?_

_S-Stop._  

_The great GamerLevelEros, cowering in his room like some injured prey._

_Breathe. B-Breath-_

_Worthless._

The day wound itself around him - the violent wringing of his hands, his toes digging into the fabric of his socks - just like an unwelcomed cut-scene, jarring and disturbing the seams of his resolve. His breathing begins lagging behind the silent prompts, and Yuuri tries to corral his objectivity; it was one test, his notes were scanned and backed up to the cloud, he could play something mellow tonight to steady himself. Solutions are in abundance, but objectivity is fast retreating; he is a man disconnecting from himself, banned from the main menu, rationale stampeding away in place of-

_Why bother when your entire life's just a series of defeats?_

_N-No._

_What you should do is give up._

_Breathe. Y-You need to b-breathe. Inhale. One, t-two-_

_You're the same frightened kid, content to stand in the background. Content to be nothing._

_S-Stop it._

Yuuri claws at his hair, fingers dragging along his scalp and tugging painfully as though the growing discomfort will help him summon restraint over the negativity rooting itself deep and strangling at his core. Tears stain his jeans, knees pressing unpleasantly into his face; his mouth is long arid, throat exiled to the desert, tears falling and falling, every one of them escaping with a piece of his strength.

_Imagine what Victor would think._

Yuuri accidentally bashes his head back against the wall at that _sickening_ notion.

_Leave him out of this._

_Hit a nerve there, Katsuki?_

_Fuck. Off._

_Oh? You're that delusional? Face the facts. He sticks around for your persona. Not you. Never you._

Hands go to his face, head a metronome of denying shakes. It isn't true. It _isn't_. He and Victor are friends. They are. He's _sure_. Not once has he subjected Yuuri to disillusions; on the contrary, he always had a way of pulling smiles from him no matter the turn of the day. 

_From GamerLevelEros. Not Yuuri Katsuki._

_Victor is different, he's-_

_Using you._

"No!" Yuuri chokes into the void, and he's crying in earnest now, heavy, heaving, disgusted with himself to even conceive-

_That Victor will never see the real you? Disgusted is too soft a word, no?_

_Breathe. Breathe. B-Breathe._

_No failure will ever compare to you fooling yourself into believing that Victor Nikiforov actually sees you as an equal._

The bile rises high, and Yuuri can taste the bitterness; he recoils, tilting his head back and swallowing miserably. His eyes land on the beautiful mage plushie on his night-stand (a gift, a gift from _Victor_ ), the bold colors blurring in his glassed vision; a lemony gaze returns to him, almost alive in the pitch of his room. Instinctively, Yuuri reaches for it, for Vivi, a character he holds in the highest regard; a powerful force of the magical arts, techniques hidden out of doubt and confusion, a life lived in fear until there came a choice.

A choice to be brave. 

_Brave. Brave like the moment you decided to build the website with Phichit. Brave like the night you started streaming. Brave like the subscription to Victor's channel. Brave, Yuuri.[Like Vivi Ornitier](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YPo-Nqd4hyg&list=PL3B33BC2B075D1E9D&index=12). _

_Oh, please. This is real life, not some stupid video game._

Yuuri hugs the plushie against his chest with one hand, sliding his phone out of his pocket with the other. He unlocks the thing, goes to _Phone_ , finger hovering over the number three speed-dial. It's Victor's off-day and Yuuri has no idea if he's intruding on his afternoon, if GA is with him, if...if _anyone_ is in his company. What is Yuuri even thinking of doing here? Asking for something that Victor cannot - _will not_ \- give him? Something he's vaguely mentioned in passing, the barest of hints that he's tainted and wrong and bound to the darkness. Why would Victor waste his time tending to someone so weak...to _Yuuri_ , not to GamerLevelEros. Eros was a top-ten streamer on Twitch, a legend in the community, beloved by all. Yuuri...

Who was Yuuri Katsuki?

_A let-down. A try-hard. A loser. A fucking-_

_No. No. Yuuri. You. Are_

_Oh._

_So._

_Brave._

And he makes the call, holding Vivi suffocatingly close, channeling the _Firaga_  in a defensive veil opposing the _'He'll never answer'_ and _'You mean nothing to him'_ and _'Have fun destroying what little you have with Victor'_. He might never stand in the same room as Victor, never game with him side-by-side; they may never touch, or hold hands or...or be _anything_ beyond an online presence. The fire roars as the voices taunt, the tears wet Vivi's hat as the vision of the mage coming into his own keeps Yuuri from hanging up.  

One ring. Two. Three...

...and just as Yuuri gives up hope, Victor's bright and breathtaking voice reverberates in the solitary quiet of his room.

"Eros! I didn't expect to hear from you today."

 

* * *

_**Present**_

Yuuri lets the _Metal Slug Anthology_ [intro roll](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Sfrj2vdhfbY&t=6s), grinning expectantly at Victor who arches an eyebrow and fixes him with a smirk of his own. If it wasn't for his viewership numbers rising steadily into the thousands, and his chat keeping the other half of him occupied, Yuuri would kiss that insufferable, teasing thing right off Victor's face.

 

: _WTF GUYS!_

: _This is the best surprise, holy shit_

: _METAL SLUG?? FOR REAL??_

: _GODDAMN you guys spoil us_

: _There goes my fucking afternoon! Hey dads, hey chat!_

**TheKingandtheGamer** : _GUYS_ @flowercrownsandskates _will release her #Victuuri fan-fic if she reaches her follower goal! She's live-tweeting this, YOU KNOW WHAT TO DO_

 

"Aww, chat, good to see you all too. To everyone now coming in, welcome and thanks for joining us on such short notice," Yuuri reads over the messages with a fond smile, scrolling through the game options until he gets to _Metal Slug X_ , "We know you didn't expect us today but Mister Nikiforov here issued a very serious challenge and who am I to spoil his masochist dreams live on-stream?"

Victor shoots him a middle finger and Yuuri makes a show of biting air if only to see the pink glow in his boyfriend's cheeks.

"I don't know, _Mister_ Eros," Victor purrs, "I don't see any archers in this lineup, do you?"

"My talent doesn't lie solely with a bow and arrow."

"Isn't this supposed to be a PG stream?"

"Of-fucking-course it is, right chat-" Yuuri frowns, "What are you doing, Nikiforov?"

"Hmm?" Victor sings slyly, locking in _[Eri](http://metalslug.wikia.com/wiki/Eri_Kasamoto) _ before Yuuri can.

"I was clearly going to pick her."

"There are three other characters, Katsuki."

Yuuri sighs, "Is this your version of psychological mind games? Because honestly, it's embarrassing. And if you even think about stealing the [_Camel Slug_](https://youtu.be/BbVJShtjAII) from me..."

 

: _LOW FUCKING BLOW_

: _These dorks, this is gonna be so good_

: _How do we even pick a side??_

: _DO IT DADS!_

: _T_T spilled all my curry when I saw the tweet BUT Victuuri Challenge Kappa!_

 

* * *

**_Late 2015_**

Victor pushes aside his curry, his forehead dropping onto the marble counter-top with an automated groan. The solid _thunk!_ and emotive grumbles would make for excellent sound files were they not eroded by Victor's intermittent mutters of 'Fuck'. 

Chris raises an eyebrow, leaning over to survey the phone precariously balancing on Victor's four limp fingers; the open message thread provokes a fist against his chest to quell the less than kind laughter that interrupts his meal.

"Phillipe? The Audio-Technica guy?"

Victor makes a garbled noise of confirmation. 

"He's _still_ trying to ask you out?"

"I've officially run out of ways to say 'No. I won't date you. I'm sorry'. Take a goddamn hint," Victor mumbles, "As if I would _ever_ go on another date with him."

Chris' chuckle is sympathetic, "What was his problem again?"

Victor raises his head, affronted at being made to repeat _that_ blasphemy and over his lunch nonetheless!

"He's the one who told me that cosplay makes no sense, remember?  _Me._  The streamer that raised funds to send those two amateur cosplay groups to a convention of their choice." His deep retching sound is only fifty-percent simulated and Chris is now beside himself with guffaws. He pats Victor on the back, scant consolation for the blatant rudeness of that ill-timed comment. 

"Did you guys..." Chris tips his glass of orange juice towards Victor with a smirk. 

"Hell. _No,_ " Victor deadpans, "but I can't believe we kissed. Granted, it happened before he proceeded to make an ass of himself..." Victor hops off the stool, the memory of it alone deflecting his appetite; he discards the rest of his tikka masala, thankful that Makka is downstairs with Yuri and not here to nip angrily at his leg.

"Just thinking about it makes me feel dirty. _Cosplay is a cultural bane_. Asshole," Victor scoffs, rinsing his plate and dropping it with an undignified clatter into the dishwasher, "You know, Eros doesn't rage often, but that one would've definitely riled him up. I guarantee there would've been a hashtag within an hour to defend the honor of cosplay." 

The sludge of Victor's initial demeanor is siphoned away the moment Eros' name leaves his mouth. He props himself against the island, regaling Chris with tales of their last 1v1 and how much more interesting Eros was in _half_ a sentence than what's-his-name was over that entire night. A single story turns into two, then three...before Victor knows it, he's Eros _ad infinitum_ , the short indie production morphing into a multiplayer-extravaganza, his accounts of Eros a serpentine of remarkable depth and features across their online repertoire.

"So...do you guys usually talk about stuff like that?" Chris asks and though it's meant to be nonchalant, Victor emerges from his narration to observe the predictable quirk of his friend's lip.

"I...no," Victor shrugs, ignoring the way his heart uneasily lurches, "It's never come up."

"Oh," is all Chris provides in response.

"Do you...I mean, it's just a joke now.  _Was_ just one kiss."

"Jokes are subjective."

Victor hesitates, no exit to the starting zone in sight; Chris is right ( _as usual_ ), but the consequential idea that he's been unconsciously withholding information from Eros...

"He wouldn't care," Victor murmurs and it isn't to Chris or even to himself, "would he?"

Chris clinks his fingernails against the glass, "Do you want him to care?"

"We'd have to have the conversation first, right?" Victor dodges with a weak smile.

"Okay," Chris follows him to the dungeon's obvious dead-end, "Do you want _that_?"

"We're friends." 

It's not an answer. It's not...anything; a system auto-allocating items based on preconceived designs. But there are no words to substitute for the ones he offers Chris; he's limited to his current inventory, a frustrating thing because Victor _knows_ words. His college minor immersed him in the likes of _Tolstoy_ and _Dostoevsky_ ; he wrote a dissertation on _Bulgakov's_ elegant satire for the fun of it. His attraction to video games with extensive lore and mesmeric story isn't a shallow thing; well-constructed dialogue is the kind of steel he prefers. It's why Eros...

Victor glances away from Chris, down at the t-shirt he's wearing. It's one of the three limited edition GamerLevelEros merchandise released last year (he has the other two folded neatly in his closet). He slouches, dynamism from his Eros-boosted effusing a time-based event that's rapidly coming to an end. The smallest, most disparaging laugh escapes him; he staves the worst of it by biting his lip and sourly announcing his need to shower away the filth of that cosplay recollection. Chris, sweetheart that he is, says nothing more, sipping on his juice with a comforting 'See you later'. 

Victor walks to the second floor and into his room, only exhaling in a rush when he closes the door behind him; there's a hammering in his chest that keeps him motionless. That mistake of a date was over two months ago and before that, Victor hadn't ventured into much of anything with anyone. There are few things he truly enjoys (a mouse or controller hoarding two of the top spots), and dating isn't really one of them. 

Eros though...he would make for wonderful company ( _He already is_ , Victor thinks, massaging his aching breastbone). Victor's smile is thinner than he'd like but he's alone and doesn't have to lie anymore. Maybe one day he'll ask; they'll order in the same food, watch a movie over Skype and, if he's lucky, Eros will bless him with hours of that vivacious laugh. 

He strides over to the shelf opposite, hand wrapping around the still pristine mage plushie, Eros' favorite character. There was a mix up with his credit card, and the supplier compensated with two Vivi's instead of one. It grounds Victor to share something with him, even if Eros doesn't know; he's never told him because it felt too cheap to say, as though he was trying to be someone Eros would happily spend his time with. 

Did Eros have... _someone_? A special person he enjoyed sharing his life and gaming with? Did they curl up on the couch together? Hold hands? 

...Kiss?

"You're being a creep," Victor mutters, setting down the mage and chastening himself to the bathroom. As the shower heats, he thumbs idly through his phone and tells himself that he has no right to feel such a constriction in his chest. When the water finally sluices over his shoulders, the routine deliberations are once again safely buried.

He's rinsing off the lather with a relaxed sigh when his ringtone echoes across the tiles. Blinking stupidly because _I must be hearing things_ , the sound loops once, twice before he yanks open the glass door and confirms his disbelief.

There's water dripping everywhere as he answers the call, "Eros! I didn't expect to hear from you today-"

Victor never finishes his greeting, skipping said dialogue the only viable choice as the choked _'V-Victor'_ carves into his ear; it casts a sweeping _Magatsu-Mandala_ , erasing the smile from Victor's face, and tearing right through to his failing heart.

 

* * *

_**Present**_

**A_Seagull hosted you for 15,678 viewers!**

"Holy shit," Yuuri breathes, pressing the PS button and pausing the game, "Hearts up in chat for Seagull, guys! Thanks for the host, dad!"

"Appreciate the support, Seagull," Victor's cheer is palpable, "Still not over the sword ult from last week."

 

**A_Seagull** : _One of my fav run-and-gun games, great to see it on stream_

**A_Seagull** : _Got your back always, Victor, but you know my money's on my fellow archer main_

**A_Seagull** : _Give 'em hell, Eros_

 

Victor bursts out laughing as Yuuri slides down on his chair, clutching his chest, "I won't lie, I have no comeback here. Eros?"

"I can't feel my legs, Jesus Christ."

 

: _THE BIRB HAS SPOKEN_

: _FUCKING SOBBING_

: _But Victor's in the lead! Yuuri fucked up his jumps on that[mission two boss](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xrm1tCxPNzs)_

: _TBH I don't fucking care who wins, this entire stream is life_

**TheKingandtheGamer** : _Don't forget, this is an off-day stream and all donations will be forwarded to[Child's Play](http://childsplaycharity.org/)_

**GAria_YPlisetsky** : _J!NX has a Twitter poll up for their giveaway, head over and vote if you're interested in winning some wicked #Victuuri swag_

 

* * *

**GAria_MBabicheva**  @gambabicheva  - Mar

We're at the [1st boss in Mission 3](https://youtu.be/8bJ_QfK9v-8)! @gamer_eros back in the lead since @gavnikiforov derped on [taking down the chopper](https://youtu.be/8bJ_QfK9v-8?t=2m27s) #Victuurichallenge 

 

**GAria_CGiacometti**  @gacgiacometti - Mar

Are these dorks [fighting over vehicles](https://youtu.be/-dZJNOT7S_0)? @gamer_eros @gavnikiforov GET YOUR SHIT TOGETHER LOL!

 

**GAria_GPopovich**  @gagpopovich - Mar

THEY BOTH LOST THEIR VEHICLES I AM CRYING OMFG #VictuuriChallenge

 

**Mirry** @flowercrownsandskates - Mar

The best thing is how happy they sound! Best. Stream. Ever. #VictuuriChallenge 

 

**2DMagic**  @ajwolf84  - Mar

If it wasn't for @gavnikiforov saying 'Eros', I'd think they've forgotten they're streaming <3 #VictuuriChallenge

 **Aly** @sabaix - Mar

Petition to have them play the entire Anthology next time! #VictuuriChallenge

 

**Phichit Chulanont**  @thekingandthegamer -  Mar

@sabaix Automatically in the schedule. @gamer_eros & @gavnikiforov are always up for a 24 hr stream <3

* * *

**_Late 2015_**

It's an auto side-scroller wreaking havoc. Victor speeds along the path as the edges pursue him, the visage distorted and dystopian, a world where the plumber doesn't rescue the princess or capture the flags.

Eros is _crying._

It's almost unfathomable. and not because the emotion is foreign or unwarranted. Oh no, it's the way he hears his name, the plea behind it. Victor doesn't know what Eros is begging him for but _dammit_ if he's not already prepared to give him everything.

"V-Victor, I'm s-sorry..."

"Hey," Victor says slowly, while his Dual-Shock spastics, "Eros, hey-"

"I-I can't...V-Victor I c-can't..."

A second sob is the command that pushes Victor to action; he's whispering now.

"Breathe with me. Listen to my voice and breathe. I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere. _Breathe_."

He grabs the robe from the door-frame and wiggles into it awkwardly, phone lodged between shoulder and cheek. Eros is trying, strangled gulps that aren't synced with the rest of him; the edges are touching him, Victor can _hear_ it and it's a miracle he hasn't imploded, hasn't given in to the blind panic that rages behind his firmly shut eyelids and _when did I close my eyes?_

It feels like tailored day-to-night cycles as Victor murmurs his instructions, toppling onto his bed and pulling a pillow into his lap. He's soft but firm, sunlight shying over the horizon with every successful inhale, lightning cutting through the sky and making merry with its innards with each stray whimper.

_I'm scared,_ Victor thinks. He's not afraid of Eros, never _;_ he's afraid _for_ him, afraid that he'll fuck up, afraid that this call will be their last. Tears have never been his forte but these are _Eros'_ tears and Victor has never felt this pried open, not even when GA tricks him into streaming horror games. 

The time lapses mingle until the storm in Victor's heart corresponds with the gentle wind in his mind; the iterations of it are indistinguishable when Eros' breathing becomes more salient. Later, he'll notice the scalloped half-moons in his palm, the only indication of how long it takes for Eros' full body bind to dissipate and his sniffles to become less pronounced. Under different circumstances, Victor would label those sniffles as 'cute'; right now, he focuses on repeating 'Breathe, Eros. Breathe with me. Good. You're doing so good', waiting and hoping that it's enough.

_You told me about this but you downplayed it, didn't you? Eros..._

A stillness fills their connection and Victor hears fabric rustling over the call. He holds the phone away from his ear for a moment, bringing it back quickly when the noise settles.

"Thank you," Eros says, a sliver of himself, one part of a dozen pieces scattered across Light and Dark worlds; Victor is already pulling the Master Sword from its perch.

"You're welcome. How do you feel?"

"Stiff. My chest...it hurts."

"How long were you..." Victor shakes his head, "I mean, where's Phichit?"

"Out of town."

"Are you home?"

"Yeah. In my room. On the floor."

Victor hugs his pillow, "Comfortable?"

Eros makes an affirming hum to the very dry joke, "I like the carpet. Reminds me of..." He trails off and Victor bites down on lower lip, "V-Victor. You don't...I understand if you want to...to go. I-I'm sorry about this..."

"Eros..."

"I-I didn't know...I'm so sorry...I wondered if you...if I could..."

"Anytime," the word tumbles from somewhere deep, a place Victor hasn't fully explored. Eros' breath gathers on his inhale and Victor flinches until the exhale smooths it all out.

"I...you don't have to..." Eros sounds muffled, "I'm not..."

_You are!_ But Victor doesn't say it because even if a part of him suspects that the rest of Eros' sentence is belittling, the affirmation is comfort to _Victor_ and he's not the one in need of anything here.

"I'm not...having a good day."

"There's nothing wrong with that. And, for the record, I'd like to stay."

"Um..."

"If that's okay with you." 

"I-I don't mind."

"Ask me anything," Victor offers and the seven seconds it takes for Eros to speak feels like a hundred hours of award-winning horror.

"Tell me something about you that you've never told me before."

Victor smiles, playing with the ends of his now damp hair, "This is a good one, actually. Would you believe I used to get the worst fucking bedhead when I had my long hair?"

There's another long stretch of silence that snakes worry into Victor's gut until Eros  _laughs;_ it's tinged with a cough or two but it shines brightly, allowing Victor to breathe.

"You're kidding."

"No!" Victor assures him, "I have pictures saved somewhere. I'll find them and send to you. Everyone thought my hair was this all-natural silk but no, that's totally my mother. I got the unique color but not the manageability. I have an entire shelf of hair products and a selection of flat irons but I'm stubborn and I can't tell you how many times I've fucked up the routine that kept it tame."

Victor pauses, color rising in his cheeks at how silly a story this is: _Hello, my name is Victor Nikiforov and I am definitely not helping,_ and _oversharing! Eros is going to hang up on me in three...two...one..._

"So, it was only a matter of time that my patience combusted; we flew in from Comic Con and brilliant me, drunk and tired, showered and slept with my wet hair piled on a pillow. I woke up completely glitterized, with a giant knot right below my shoulder. Grabbed a scissors and chopped the damn thing off myself before I woke everyone up, I was screaming so hard."

Eros is giggling, low and coarse from his evident sore throat, but still so exquisite that Victor puts the call on speaker so he can cover his reddened face. It deepens significantly when Eros lands what he dreams isn't a throwaway comment.

"I'm sure you still looked beautiful."

 

* * *

_**Present** _

**GAria_GPopovich**  @gagpopovich - Mar

Beautiful gameplay from #Victuuri! They're tied on deaths...WAIT sdflkjfsfkjdsl NEVERMIND

 

**Phichit Chulanont**  @thekingandthegamer -  Mar

@gagpopovich THE FUCKING [ALIENS](https://youtu.be/MIq7H4awMlU?t=2m4s)! AKDKJLFDLKJ (false alarm, no new deaths, still tied, IT'S FINE)

 

**Anne Munition** @annemunition - Mar

@thekingandthegamer Thank god for Hyakutaro Ichimonji #Victuurichallenge

 

* * *

"This fucking [ship](https://youtu.be/MIq7H4awMlU?t=3m6s)!" Victor hisses, "Chat, it's not physically possible to load a ship to that armory capacity, is it?"

"They had me at the prisoner who knows Hadouken. I mean- _FUCK_!" Yuuri shouts, vehicle stuck on the environment and in direct line-of-sight with the giant cannon; he launches out of the ruined tank and into another stray bullet, "THAT DOES NOT COUNT!"

"Oh, you bet it fucking does, Eros!"

Yuuri groans, "Where's the goddamn _Firaga_ when you need it?"

"I don't remember Vivi being a little bitch about environmental glitches," Victor swerves away from the light kick aimed at his elbow. He giggles helplessly when Yuuri pauses the boss fight and dives toward him, going for the spot right above his hip; he shrieks at the tickles, shivering under Yuuri's mercilessness. 

"CHAT, HELP!"

 

: _Victuuri has quite the potty mouths_

: _Uh, is this your first stream or something?_

: _STFU guys, they're heading to Mission 5 which means TRAINS AND THAT'S WAY MORE IMPORTANT_

: _Anything that makes either of them use their perfect voices is a blessing you dumbass_

**GAria_CGiacometti** : _Play nice children, these two need to concentrate <3_

**TheKingandtheGamer** : @GAria_CGiacometti _What he means is no griefing, time-outs and bans are in place as usual darlings_

**GAria_YPlisetsky** : _Uh, you both realize they're playing the fool on-stream, right?_ @GAria_CGiacometti @TheKingandtheGamer

 

* * *

**_Late 2015_**

The voice screams and thrashes, taking Yuuri within an inch of sanity; it's a monstrous thing, booming, scathing, the intent to scar more than a cosmetic addition to a character customization. Yuuri, fool he is, carries the wounds - has carried them for years - bandaging the affected areas whenever he's stripped raw. But to bare them like this, to give in to that insane impulse, it flares something horrid as Victor endeavors to drag him back.

_What will he think about you now, Katuski? You brought this on yourself, you always do!_

"I've got you. Keep listening to me and breathe."

_Broken piece of shit!_

"That's good. You're doing so good."

_Victor will NEVER fucking-_

"-go anywhere, okay? Focus on my voice."

The quiet comes, cacophonous in its own right, a thickening, ominous shroud following his shaky breathing. Yuuri's cheek is pillowed near the crook of his elbow, the soft, almost ethereal voice that he's spent years memorizing sounding much less tailored and much more...personal. It might as well be his imagination but Yuuri briefly wonders - _inhale, one, two...exhale, two, one_ \- how is it that Victor _knows._

Of course, like any World Event, it'll be temporary; everything regarding his anxiety usual is. Yet, of all the times he's been guided away from the tyrant of his mind, this is the first time he's felt more than just numb; it's jarring but not suffocating like the instances before. Victor is some kind of key to the code of him, tweaking and streamlining and readying him for the open beta.

His back aches, ass desensitized, hands prickling with pins and needles, all a testament to his body being in strained positions for far too long. Vivi is smushed to his chest, hat poking into his chin. Through it all, Victor keeps talking - slow, beautiful and never faltering - and Yuuri can sense it more clearly, a wave furling to shore.

_Hasetsu._

_Of all the people..._

Yuuri leans back, eyes fluttering close. He usually hates the feeling of tears on his neck, mana leaking from the foundation of himself; this time though, he finds that the warmth of the memory and the person weaving it for him overpowers everything else. He's at the beginning of the day's dungeon, hazy and drained, just enough left in his reserves to thank Victor; the dedication Victor affords him is too unimaginable for him to traverse in any short period of time, so he answers his questions and _hopes_.

"Comfortable?" Victor asks, voice tinted in irony; concern smudges the would-be playfulness of it, something that the poorly repaired threads of his heart can't overlook. Yuuri knows the recent 'Thank you' in no way conveys a shred of what he feels but it's safe, easy, a difficulty level reserved for cowards.

"I like the carpet. Reminds me of..." 

_What the fuck are you doing?_

His voice breaks once more, an unrepaired weapon that just didn't know when to quit. His words become disheveled, dull, unable to even cut through butter, made...not worse but _baffling_ when Victor expresses his desire to stay.

'I-I don't mind' is what Yuuri manages, all the while wondering _why_ and _how_ and _he actually sounds sincere._ The tyrant at the depths of him growls low in anticipation.

_He'll leave. You'll see. That's what people_ do _, Katsuki._

But Victor doesn't. _Victor won't_ , the brave voice promises. And instead of retreating from a battle he never asked to be a part of, Victor weaves a story solely for Yuuri's carefree delight. Yuuri isn't sure why Victor's voice pitches high at 'I'm sure you still looked beautiful'; the successive squeaks as Victor searches for the evidence of his tale are endlessly confusing. Yuuri can't be the first person to tell Victor something so glaringly true.

When the pictures of Victor striving to untangle a knot and then holding a thick pile of glittery silver load on his screen, Yuuri can't help his unrestrained laughter. It provokes a fresh well of tears, lighter and inherently different, more manageable than before. 

"Your face is priceless," Yuuri says fondly because Victor manages to look both horrified and pleased with himself. It's uncanny _how much of an understatement beautiful is_.

"I told you! I was _probably_ still intoxicated in the second one. That entire morning made no sense. Scared the shit out of parents when I showed up holding my hair. Then, my mother scared us all when she burst out laughing. Apparently she had a similar story with gum? I think it happened on her first date with dad."

Yuuri hugs his knees and smiles, eyes roving over the pictures as he swipes back and forth, "I like both."

"Hmm?"

"Your hair."

"Oh..."

"Doesn't matter if it's long or short," Yuuri clarifies, smearing wetness across his cheek; it's completely hushed on Victor's end now, "I like-" 

_What the_ fuck _are you doing?!_

Yuuri picks at Vivi's hat, more tears gathering along his lashes at the quiet now pervading the call, a side quest on the verge of being bypassed for more important things. Maybe _._..maybe this was a bad idea, after all. He has no place saying such things and he certainly has no right to take more than he already has; Victor has a life, a really amazing one, and it does _not_ include him _-_

_"_ Eros?"

_I'm busy. I need to go. I have things to do. Wait for it, Katsuki._

"Have you eaten?"

"Wha- I...no. I haven't?"

"Would you like to make a PB&J with me?"

Yuuri balks, reloading and replaying, over and over because he _doesn't understand_. Victor took his call, talked him through one of his more aggressive attacks, is _still_ there, and now wants to make a sandwich with him _over the phone?_ There's no explanation, none, and Yuuri will probably never find one but...there isn't a part of him that _can_ say no.

_Brave._   _Like right now, when you say yes._

"Sure. I...I need a shower. Should I call you back or...?"

"I'll stay."

"What?"

"I'll stay on the call," one beat, then another, "Do you mind?"

Yuuri blinks and nods, realizing seconds later that Victor can't see that, "No. No, that's fine. Give me ten minutes?"

"Take your time. I've got my 3DS and I think I can hear Makkachin running up the stairs."

"Are you sure?"

"I'll be here when you get back," Victor says gently, "I promise."

Yuuri makes a sound that he hopes is an 'Okay', muting and coaxing his body off the floor, depositing both Vivi and his phone on the nightstand. The call-timer ticks away - _fifty-eight, fifty-nine...one, two, three -_ into new minutes; he walks backwards, facing the phone, counting along with the seconds until he can no longer see the screen. His smile is a careful, barely-there twitch; he glances at Vivi and wishes, _oh how he wishes_...

The water is lava, the only temperature his muscles will accept under such circumstances; it doesn't do much but Yuuri takes the comfort it does give. His mind races and he rests his head on the tiles, letting the steam drift over him and _Victor is on the phone in the next room, he's there and he's staying and what in the fuck is going on, I can't fucking believe I called him, this happened on stupid impulse, I've lost my fucking mind and what does he mean let's make a PB &J?_

He rifles through his closet for something to wear, listening to the jovial [music](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uMA-M_yppc0) coming from Victor's end, almost pulling down an entire stack of boxes when his hand goes too far up. His arm is still fighting into the left sleeve of his t-shirt as he picks up his phone, breathing deep and quivering when he unmutes.

"Which city is that again?"

"Eros!" Victor chirps, "It's _Fortree City_. I'm almost to the League," there's a pause and distinct _snap!_ of the 3DS closing, "Feeling better?"

"A little. I'm starving."

"To our respective kitchens, then."

 

* * *

_**Present** _

 

: _You would desecrate your kitchen with crunchy peanut butter?!_ @Lirik _I THOUGHT WE WERE FRIENDS_

: _HOW CAN YOU EAT SMOOTH WTF_

: _Can't we have both???_

**GAria_MBabicheva** : _Three kinds of people_

: _Can we have none? Peanut butter is fucking disgusting_

**GAria_YPlisetsky** : _Four. Four kinds of people_

: _You guys don't remember the story a couple years back? That one person who wanted to use it as lube?_

**TheKingandtheGamer** : _FIVE. FIVE KINDS. TIME TO RETIRE CHAT_

 

The game was on pause for the last fifteen minutes as the argument rages through Yuuri's chat. He narrows an eyebrow at Victor; his boyfriend is all sunshine and wickedness.

"Victor, babe, you swore this was off the debate list."

"It is, Eros. With _us_ ," Victor grins, "You never said anything about viewers."

"Default!"

"You can't call default on- NO, EROS, NO MORE TICKLES!"

_"Punishment."_

 

* * *

**GAria_GPopovich**  @gagpopovich - Mar

Uh...@gavnikiforov...we've been hiding smooth peanut butter in the fridge for years, ktksbye #smoothorcrunchy

 

**GAria_CGiacometti**  @gacgiacometti - Mar

@gapopovich DELETE THAT TWEET, DO YOU REMEMBER THE GREAT DIJON MUSTARD DEBATE OF 2012 BECAUSE I FUCKING DO!

 

**GAria_YPlisetsky** @gayplisetsky - Mar

@gapopovich I vote leave the tweet. @gamer_eros can keep him under control, right?

 

**GAria_MBabicheva** @gambabicheva - Mar

@gapopovich @gacgiacometti @gayplisetsky I'll be at Vic's parents when this hits the fan #Milaout

**J!NX**  @JINX - Mar

Monday won't be a productive day at the office #smoothorcrunchy (#Victuurichallenge Poll's still open, vote now for a chance to win!)

 

**Phichit Chulanont**  @thekingandthegamer -  Mar

I have no words...#smoothorcrunchy

 

* * *

**_Late 2015_**

Yuuri has no real words as he plugs in his headset and drops the phone into the pocket of his sweatpants; the ones he does give come up short, impeded by the excessive traction throughout his body and the ache right at the base of his neck. Victor accepts them, the broken shards of him, and molds them into uncomplicated, digestible conversation; there's no judgement to be found, no patronizing, and Yuuri wonders again, more clearly this time, how Victor could possibly _know_.

He remembers it like a revelation, the universe a well-to-do sidekick that seemed to have all the answers the day Victor started broadcasting. "QA for your life." Phichit used to tease and Yuuri would blush on the mapped command but kept his mouth shut, mind too taken with how differently the algorithm of his days would align when Victor was streaming.

QA for his life indeed. QA for _1,000 Ways to Lose Your Fucking Mind_ (the length of it increased by the day's events) but somehow, not entirely, because the goddamn bugs still crop up every time he hears Victor's musical laugh or he saves the smugness from a competitive spar that is less about the game and more about their...chemistry? (That's what their respective chats call it and neither of them have ever corrected them). It's the brilliance of eyes too blue, body too defined, knowledge too dizzying, in-game proficiency too terrifying; Victor wields none of it though, because Victor himself _is_ the weapon. Yuuri doesn't doubt his acumen, the endless span of his magnificent mind...

...he just doesn't understand how or why that mind somehow knows how to make him feel safe on a day like today.

Victor's sheathed right now though, gentle and bustling as he talks - about his day, the Fairy Type he's training for the League, the fact that Makka, who's  _such a good girl, yes you are_ , is long overdue for a trim - and Yuuri fidgets with his hands, waiting for the traitorous turn, for the kid gloves and excuses, for the defeat. He walks through the dungeon, expects the dead end, keeps reminding himself that _it's coming_ and _this will never last_.

But...Victor stays, wavering once to attend to a resolved Makka, cooing happily at her excited bark. Yuuri's stomach keeps attempting double jumps when he's barely unlocked walking, an erratic sensation fueled by Yuuri's worrying and Victor's adoration for his poodle and-

_Don't get comfortable, Katsuki._

"Sorry about that," Victor says and Yuuri hears the persistent clang of metal, "She's very demanding when she wants to be."

"That's okay," Yuuri feels his throat scratch uncomfortably. He puts the kettle on, relieved to find that there's lemon and honey in the middle of the tea stash; his body melts onto the counter for a moment, legs still sixty percent jelly.

"So, I have an important question for you, Eros."

Yuuri tears open the tea packet and drops it into a nearby mug, "Ask away."

"What kind of peanut butter do you like?"

"Uh," Yuuri moves to the fridge, searching for the spread and accompanying jam, "Smooth."

Victor gives an entirely unorchestrated gasp, " _No._ "

"Is there a problem?" 

"You'll compromise the sandwich's texture," Victor is completely serious and Yuuri suddenly is laughing again, too quick for a reprove to stifle it, "It's true! A PB&J is so plain without the crunch."

"Well," Yuuri counters with a playful smile, reaching for cutlery and the honey whole wheat bread, "that's why I toast the bread. How's that for texture?"

"You heathen. Next thing you'll tell me you cut the crusts off."

"And you don't?"

"I can't take you seriously right now," Victor chuckles and Yuuri makes his hundredth note about it in _1,000 Ways_ , "Okay, one chance at redemption. What kind of jam do you like?"

"Strawberry," Yuuri says, perusing the half-filled jar, "It's this gourmet brand that Phichit found, not too sweet, and it actually spreads instead of glitching like other brands. We have blueberry too, but I prefer this one."

"I love strawberries too." 

"Nice that we agree on something."

The ambient sounds of them assembling their individual sandwiches is the kind of cosy inn Yuuri loves finding in-game. It's him running through his parents' bed and breakfast, charming the guests with his complete knowledge of every item on the menus and a smile that brightened every room in the place. Yuuri lips dance a little more freely as they go through the motions; he pours hot water over his teabag before sitting right on the kitchen floor with his meal, idly sprawled across the hardwood. He and Phichit did this their first week here, the movers two days late with their furniture; he takes a small bite and smiles at how separate this position is from trapping himself in the dark corner of his room. 

"My hair is an entity all its own," Yuuri starts, unsure of why he's sharing such a thing but wanting to anyway, "Does whatever it wants, hair products be damned. It sticks out to the right every morning, no exceptions."

"What...color is it?"

"Jet black. My mom used to tell me that it could rival the night sky."

Victor takes a _very_ deep breath as he continues, "It was a fucking nightmare when I was younger. If you think you had bad bedhead, I'm positive I would've given you a run for your money. Still might. Seventeen, eighteen, I'd look like a completely different person every time I ran my hand through it or it got caught in the wind. Phichit carried a brush in case I ever forgot mine. He and my family were the only ones who could tell the difference. They never looked away..."

Yuuri pales, gesticulating with a frustrated squint and nearly knocking over his cup of tea;  _he doesn't need to know about that, you idiot!_ It's too late to take it back and from the tense silence on the other end, Victor fully understands the implication of those four words. 

_"_ Anyone who looks away from you is an asshole."

Yuuri's server crashes; Victor's vehemence is so overwhelming.

"But you...you've never..." Yuuri all but whispers.

"It doesn't matter. Your voice alone..."

Yuuri hears Victor sigh, though not exasperated or fumbling; it sounds like he's _smiling_. 

"What about it?" Yuuri asks, picking at the clean edges of his PB&J there's peanut butter and a bit of jam over his index and thumb, both of which are trembling.

"You...I really like your voice. It's...you're relaxing. Listening to you, I mean," there's a sudden clank of ceramic and glass, "Um, you always remind me of that game. _Journey_. You're as beau- [t-the music](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mhFL96Yl0bw&index=7&list=PLBDBA870DF26340C0). I'll send you the link."

Yuuri knows the OST well and he listens to _The Road of Trials,_ hands covering his unhindered smile; his eyebrow gets sticky with the placement of his fingers.

"I love that game. The music is...it's amazing. Thank you, Victor."

"You don't need to thank me."

"I have to do something to show my..." Yuuri forages, no words adequate enough to scale Victor's consideration, "for...for everything."

"If you're insisting," Victor appraises softly, "can I ask you another important question?"

_Wait for it, Katsuki._

"What words do you like best?"

 

* * *

_**Present**_

Yuuri waves his arms wildly, no particular pattern to it and Victor yells, "Use your words, babe!"

"[CROUCH](https://youtu.be/aUxgBMNzemQ?t=2m28s)!"

"Wha-" Victor is a split second too late and promptly dies, "UNBELIEVABLE!"

It's a grueling sequence, a plethora of moving parts that's frequently interrupted by both their laughter. Victor is aware that most of Yuuri's death are a result of joint antics; his boyfriend is majestic, especially now as they move up to the [trains](https://youtu.be/aUxgBMNzemQ?t=4m54s). Yuuri's strategy is intact, knowing exactly where and how to position himself, and Victor keenly follows suit.

"THE TRAINS," Yuuri and Victor scream in unison as the bombardment commences. Somehow Victor manages to die another _four times_ while Yuuri demolishes the turbulent subways and enemy waves. When they're prompted to move forward, Victor groans, pushing the controller against his face.

"You okay, love?"

"Hmm?" Victor nods, "Yeah, I'm fine-"

"Because you have the exact look you did that time you tried _Civilization_ ," Yuuri teases, "Should we switch to something less stressful?"

"Don't you even think about coming after _Detective Barbie_ , Eros. _Don't you dare_."

 

: _Hey that Detective Barbie stream was litaf_

: _Savage Eros is my fav Eros goddamn_

: _No but did you guys see Victor's reaction to Civ? Fucking priceless XD_

**GAria_MBabicheva** : _THESE DORKS_

**GAria_YPlisetsky** : _Eros is a kindred spirit_

 

* * *

**dspstanky** @DSPStanky - Mar

Supposed to be napping but senpais got me yelling at trains #Victuurichallenge 

 

**Brandon Larned** @A_Seagull - Mar

@DSPStanky Nostalgia at its finest #Kappa #Victuurichallenge 

 

**GAria_CGiacometti** @gacgiacometti - Mar

@gamer_eros Kitten has claws XD #Victuurichallenge 

 

**Phichit Chulanont**  @thekingandthegamer -  Mar

Full disclosure: I enjoyed that Detective Barbie play-through. Fucking beacon of streams #sorrynotsorry 

 

* * *

_**Late 2015**_

GamerLevelEros. A beacon in the community. His forum was (and is) the only place worth spending time on for any guildie. Victor never fails to marvel at the attentiveness shown to everyone, be it newbies or seasoned players. Not to mention his recent bi-weekly FPS tutorials that always manage to reproduce Murphy's Law of Gaming; every ultimate that can be missed, will be missed. It's some of Victor's most loved streams because Eros spends eight percent of it shimmering with exuberance. 

Kind, adept, good-natured and oh so sassy, it isn't hard to deduce why everyone falls under Eros' striking charms. Where Victor's fallen though...

Victor remembers Eros' first stream like a revelation, his voice [an iconic character introduction](https://www.youtube.com/results?search_query=chrono+cross+kid+intro) that transcended his lack of a face-camera. To this day, he remains grateful that no one was around to witness him discarding his hoodie and downing three bottles of ice cold water in quick succession, his studio was suddenly so hot. It made no sense, reacting so fiercely to a voice (an absolutely gorgeous voice but Victor digresses). He's never been a good liar though, and Eros' stream becoming a lantern in both his good and bad days isn't something he can easily explain away. 

Today...today feels like a plot-twist of intent not yet defined. Victor sits locked away in his studio, sandwich three-quarter devoured, listening to Eros recount words like 'incandescent' and 'gravitas' and '[bandersnatch](http://finalfantasy.wikia.com/wiki/Bandersnatch_\(Final_Fantasy_IX\))' as he twirls around in his chair and tries for an acceptable level of sangfroid. There's hesitation under Eros' vocals, a bit of fear in his lighter shows of emotion and it makes Victor's heart parkour through the ages. As much as he wants to declare that he'll stay on the call forever if that's what it takes for Eros to understand that he would rather set his studio on fire than leave, Victor logs another reminder with his runaway sentiment that this _isn't about him_. 

"Coruscating."

Victor's heart upgrades to its max level, "That's your favorite word?"

"Yeah," Eros says quietly, like he's embarrassed to admit it out loud, "The other ones I told you are nice, but there's something about 'coruscating'. You...you don't like that one?" 

"No, no," _It's as beautiful as you are_ , "It makes me think about dragon scales. Silver and cobalt. It fits you really well."

"It's always reminded me of eidolons," Eros is wistful and Victor can't account for why he feels the urge to cry, "What's your favorite word, Victor?"

"Oh. Well, uh," Victor says, more shyly than he's accustomed; he's never had this kind of conversation with anyone and certainly never been asked that. What affects him the most is that Eros isn't humoring him; Victor would know, he's been on the receiving end of that move too many times to count, "It a strange one."

"I told you mine," Eros nudges at him, "Equivalent exchange."

Victor pulls his hair over his face for no good reason, "It's 'moiety'."

"As in one of two equal parts?"

"Y-Yeah," _Amazing_ , "I don't think I've ever met someone who knew it."

"It's awesome," Victor twines hair around his finger, smile lopsided at Eros' heartfelt essence, "I can't remember where I've seen or heard it but I think it would make a hell of a name for a game studio."

"Holy shit, you're right!" Victor says excitedly, "It has a nice ring to it."

Eros chuckles, "What else do you like?"

"'Ebullient'," Victor answers without delay, "It reminds me of the Sign Painter. Remember? The one who left all those messages in World of Goo. 'Effervescent' is another word I subscribe to daily."

Eros hums, a warm, delicate thing that leaves Victor feeling irrationally exposed, "That describes you perfectly."

"As in, I'm too much?" Victor says it without thinking, biting into his tongue when Eros stutters; that was unnecessarily bitter of him, assuming the worst without cause. Eros isn't cruel, he isn't. They're friends. He's _sure_.

"No..." Eros draws out the word, a question in the pit of it that Victor won't know how to answer if asked, "You're never too much." 

_"_ Oh," Victor mumbles feebly, "I...thank you."

"You don't need to thank me," Eros mimics, a tease in his lilt, "But if you're insisting, tell me more of your words."

Victor tilts his head back, keeping the moisture at bay, "'Train'. My dad proposed to my mom on a train in Moscow."

 

* * *

_**Present**_

"Alright chat! Trains, done. [Sewer zombies](https://youtu.be/9aA2ZKiiM7g), done!" Yuuri cracks his fingers, welcoming the glass of water and chaste kiss that Victor plants on his cheek, "Time for the final mission! Lots of love to everyone watching and thank you for all the subs and donations, you guys are amazing. I honestly forget how much fun this game is."

Victor curls into his chair, scanning his phone, "I'm seeing tweets about us possibly doing the entire Anthology. Up for it, Eros?"

"Up for anything with you."

 

: _SKJDHSLKFJL_

: _Fucking relationship goals jesus_

: _Not sure if epic gameplay or epic feels (BOTH ARE GOOD)_

**GAria_CGiacometti** : _Hmm, it's dangerous to go alone chat, they should take a golden ring. Thoughts?_

: _OMFG CHRIS_

: _CHRIS WHY_

: _Why did everyone's mind go to the gutter? HE MEANS A PROPOSAL RIGHT?_

: _Is this some kind of low-key Sonic reference??_

 

Yuuri's head is buried in Victor's shoulder as he masks his laughter, "Yeah chat, this is totally about Sonic and his gold rings." Victor nibbles a little too purposefully on his earlobe.

 

**GAria_CGiacometti** : _???_

**GAria_CGiacometti** : _NEITHER OF THOSE THINGS ARE RIGHT_

**GAria_CGiacometti** : _A_ _nd you all say I'm the one with the dirty mind lol_

 

* * *

**_Late 2015_**

Yuuri plops onto his couch, bringing a knee to his chin as he gets comfortable, smiling wide at Victor's enthusiasm over his father's outright disaster of a proposal - a jacket pinned and ruined in the train door, glasses lost in the hunt for a small box, tripping and having said box flying into his mother's hand. He thinks about his parents in Napa, the flowers his mom puts beside his father's breakfast, the haiku his father leaves for her at every turn. 

_I'll tell you about them one day_ , Yuuri thinks desperately, _I promise. Stay with me, Victor._

"My father said he had an entire speech planned. Poetry, a recap of their courting, the works. When my mother caught the box, he just blurted out 'Marry me' much to my mother's endearment," Victor chuckled, "I've had a thing for trains ever since they told me the story."

"Didn't you study literature in college?" 

"I did. Yeah. Um. You remember that?"

Yuuri makes a face he's thankful Victor can't see, "You told me you like Robert Frost. They used his poem _The Road Not Taken_ in the [trailer](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bILV9L3CsDY) for that horror game...uh...I can't remember the name."

"I love Frost but don't remind me. I hate horror games which my stream regularly takes advantage of," Victor gags, recovering as Yuuri laughs, "But that one isn't my go-to from him."

"Tell me."

"I...I prefer _Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening_."

Yuuri doesn't like making assumptions, in real life or in-game but he gets the impression that he is one of very few to know these things about Victor; the voice reaching him is bashful, modest, unsure. What can Yuuri say to rid Victor of that last de-buff? What does he _want_ to say?

_You can't admit it, can you, Katsuki? Because you know there isn't a chance in hell that he'll ever say it back._

"Will you read it for me?" Yuuri requests. _Be brave. Be brave. Be brave, Yuuri._

"Really?" Victor squeaks, "S-Sure."

Yuuri's breath hitches as Victor recites the poem, strong and practiced, someone who knows it verbatim and is proud of it. Yuuri imagines him with a sweeping cloak, hood pulled high as he emerges from the shadows, gloved hands pocketed, lips the only visible evidence of his humanity, smirk betraying the ability to slip back into stealth before any defense can be drawn. That same man enters the tavern with a heart-shaped smile, spouting soft words and putting the stars to shame.

"... _the woods are lovely, dark and deep, but I have promises to keep, and miles to go before I sleep,_ " Victor gives a silly laugh, "I really like it. A lot of people thinks it's basic, but there's a-" his voice stumbles, "Eros? I...I'm sorry, did I say something..."

Yuuri furrows, puzzled by the change in tone until the tears drip onto his knee; he's crying again, and he didn't realize. He wipes at them angrily, shaking his head as he grasps for an explanation.

"No, you're fine. You didn't do anything. It's...beautiful. The poem. It's..." Yuuri sighs, laying on the couch, covering his eyes with his arm, "Victor. Where do you think I'm going?"

Yuuri doesn't grasp the initial low Russian; it's nothing he can recognize based on Victor's streams. The words are as new as the force with which he continues in English.

"Anywhere. _Everywhere_ ," he says and Yuuri _wishes_ , "Every time I listen to your stream, every single online meetup, the forum posts, _everything_. You're just...Eros, you're too good for those woods."

 

* * *

_**Present**_

"We're not out of the woods yet, chat!" Yuuri shouts as they make their way over the [waved bridge](https://youtu.be/8izWk2gUHvc?t=1m23s), enemy hoards and endless bombs merely a blip on their radar. He and Victor are in sync for the fight against the mini boss, running and gunning in harmony all the way to the [aliens](https://youtu.be/8izWk2gUHvc?t=3m34s). Their chairs are crushed together now, arms overlapping, hunger for the adrenalin at a record high both with them and Yuuri's chat when they enter the [final boss](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rqR1TldNnxE) sequence.

Bullets rain across the screen and Victor inadvertently steps on his foot; Yuuri acknowledges the pain but doesn't react to it, sure that the controller will fall apart in his hands, he's mashing the buttons so hard. Victor squeals as he steps into the path of a destructive orb, Yuuri right behind him when he wrongly times his jumps. PogChamp rolls through chat as the [full spaceship appears](https://youtu.be/rqR1TldNnxE?t=2m31s) and then it's a mad dash to the end of it. They're both screaming at chat, at the screen, at each other until finally, _finally_ , they emerge victorious.

Victor takes both their controllers, deposits it somewhere and pulls him in for a long, lingering kiss, "We need to do this more often, babe." Yuuri is breathless, from the proximity of his boyfriend and the hype of the game

"Agreed. But, before we iron out our schedules..." he smirks, "Chat! What's the final count?"

 

**TheKingandtheGamer** : _Eros, 28 deaths. Victor, 29 deaths_

: _EROSSSSS_

: _So fucking close damn_

: _This was the best stream THE BEST ONE GUYS_

: _We need to get all the clips assembled holy shit_

: _YOU'RE BOTH WINNERS! LOVE YOU!_

 

Victor pouts at the score but it's the sort of indignation that never meets his eyes; he's all mischief, burning onto Yuuri and through him, "You're never going to let me live this one down, are you?"

"It's either this or Detective Barbie," Yuuri pecks his nose, "Choose."

"This," Victor pushes his hair back, hand persistent in combing the dark locks, "I choose this."

 

**GAria_YPlisetsky** : _You guys are still on stream, you know that right?_

**GAria_GPopovich** : _Let them live <3_

: _Asdfhjsdfj fucking adorable_

: _Thanks so much for the off day stream dads!_

: _This is the good kind of gross! This is the gross we aspire to be chat DON'T DENY IT!_

 

"You're welcome, chat," Yuuri smiles and then shudders, the pin-prick in his chest a familiar precursor to...to... _no, not like this_..."I need some water."

Victor obliges, attention turning to entertaining his chat. Yuuri backs away, breathing in, air dragging against his throat instead of flowing through, clawing its path down into his heaving lungs. Victor is so animated, so committed, stepping up to the front-line without question and Yuuri knows; amidst the noise and clutter and dark closing in on him, he knows there is nothing Victor wouldn't do for him.

He knows.

He's _sure_.

Oh.

Oh, how that _scares_ him.

_You're never too much_ , Yuuri thinks in the waning moments of coherence. What kind of villain did you have to be to think that Victor Nikiforov was too much? He chokes on the thought, loudly enough that Victor glances back then does a full double-take; Yuuri can only imagine the sight - deathly pale, muscles tense, hands twisting and twining with each other.

_Not now. P-Please, go away._

_This is all you, Katsuki. Now he'll get to see exactly what you are._

_Stop it. S-Stop._

_Victor deserves more. Better. Stronger. A lover. Not a persona._

_Lying. Y-You're lying._

Yuuri retreats to the couch, lying face down into the cushions, trying to _fix this_ ; everything is so loud, a stream of static short-circuiting his brain. He's helpless to stop it, the devil of his heart. The sobs are grating, smothered into striped fabric. Somewhere far away he hears Victor give a hasty goodbye to his stream, voice shaking on the farewell as he shuts everything off.

_Victor, I'm so sorry, I'm a-_

_Weak piece of-_

_I am not weak!_

_Oh, really? Look what you've done. How can he possibly-_

"Love," Victor whispers, "You...can you nod for me?"

Command input successful; Yuuri does as he's asked.

"May I touch you?"

Yuuri shakes his head frantically - _no, no, no_ \- peeking out at Victor, expecting disgust, annoyance, something awful and vitriolic. 

He finds his boyfriend on his knees, smile kind and concerned, hands around a bottle of unopened water. Yuuri searches, nitpicks, mines away at the color and shape and stature of Victor's face.

And for the first time in literal years, he _doesn't understand_ because he finds nothing but love and acceptance. Victor watches him closely, carefully, but never judging; his hands don't move, nor does his gaze, the entirety of him waiting for Yuuri's say-so. 

Yuuri cannot understand _why._

He grabs hold of Victor's t-shirt, hauling him onto the couch before burying his face in Victor's chest. The quickening heartbeat is a grounding force, booming against his forehead as he cries. Victor, slowly, lovingly, follows the pull, dropping the water and settling on the couch with him; his hands and arms scoop him close, rubbing circles into his back. Yuuri curls into his boyfriend, tears falling and falling, ashamed that he's ruined their afternoon, devastated that this is it, the thing that makes Victor realize-

_You're not good enough._

So Yuuri waits. He waits to be deserted, memorizing Victor's scent, the contour of his body, soft lips in his hair...

But...

Victor stays.

And when Victor begins to [sing](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ye7BGnlTZmQ), Yuuri resets in spades; his main menu pops up, save file fully accessible. He melts into Victor, tears unabated, and listens to the man he loves serenade him. There's nothing else but this moment; a time capsule of them at their best and worst.

"You played it?" Yuuri murmurs, the front of Victor's t-shirt soaked and soggy on his cheek, "You never told me."

Victor kisses the top of his head, "Mmhmm. The week you said it was your favorite game, I got a copy of it. I've played it every year since."

"Victor..."

"Would you like some water? Something to eat?" Yuuri shakes his head and pulls him closer; _stay, please stay._

"What do you need?"

"This. I need this. Before you leave, I-"

Victor stiffens, "Leave? Yuuri, what are you-"

"How can you not hate me?" Yuuri babbles, "How can you want... _this_?"

Victor wriggles down so that he's face-to-face with him; Yuuri lets Victor lift his chin, eyes wide because he's _heard_ this look before.

_Anyone who looks away from you is an asshole..._

"Yuuri...your anxiety doesn't make or break you. I will always love you. I will always want you-"

"But I hid from you!" Yuuri grips tight onto his shoulders, fingernails digging hard and unrelenting, "I lied to you, Victor!"

"Yuuri-"

"I demanded space in your life, all those years and you don't...I'm not-"

"You are!" Victor blurts and Yuuri bites his inner cheek, "Yuuri, you didn't demand anything. I gave it freely. I would've given you anything..."

Victor stares at him strangely, mouth moving but no words coming out; color drains from his face as he struggles. This look...it reminds Yuuri of that night, their first date, the comment Victor made that he forgot until now...

"Yuuri, do you remember that call last year? The...the customer service call?"

"When you were routed to me? Yeah, I r-" Yuuri chokes, "W-Wait...how...?"

"I knew it was you. I knew it was GamerLevelEros on the call."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **BONUS:**  
>     
> With reference to Phichit's tweet on a #Victuuri fanfic being released, I'm pleased to present [flower-crowns-and-skates](https://flower-crowns-and-skates.tumblr.com/) fic [Dearly Beloved](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11658492), an AU of my AU <3


End file.
